


Another Day, Another Destiny

by aspermoth



Series: A Brother Your Heart Chose [1]
Category: Atop the Fourth Wall
Genre: Alternate Reality, Blood, Deal with a Devil, Explicit Language, Gen, Magic, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:11:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 21,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1520435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspermoth/pseuds/aspermoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few days after the events of "Silent Hill: Dead/Alive", Harvey gets attacked while walking home. And when Linkara's no help, it's up to 90s Kid to find a way to save Harvey's life. Even if that involves making a very ill-advised deal Peter Parker-style...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Stranger in Silent Hill

_There was someone in Silent Hill who didn't belong. A visitor. He walked amongst them invisible, an imperceptible spectator to the pain and suffering brought by the town, unseen by human eyes._

_And there were eyes watching Silent Hill that weren't human._

_Mechakara's._

_Lord Vyce may have repaired Mechakara, given him new strength and new opportunities to take his revenge, but that didn't mean that Mechakara owed him fealty. Vyce was just another organic life-form, a means to an ends, a mayfly who would flicker out and perish before even the first hint of rust crept across metal bones._

_He was useful for now. But that didn't mean Mechakara would obey his every word._

_Silent Hill had broken Linkara. He'd held the weapon up to his own head, ready to pull the trigger. He'd pulled the trigger. He should be nothing more than dead meat and bones._

_Magic was the key. Psychology was the key. But Vyce was too blind to see it. Just like living creatures to be so short-sighted. To give up after a single failed attempt. An android will run a piece of broken code through its systems from now until the end of time to find the flaw and fix it._

_Mechakara didn't have until the end of time, but he did have one more chance._

_There was a stranger in Silent Hill, a creature who wandered in and out of that realm, a being of dark magic who fed upon the anguish and pain that the Dolorem unleashed._

_He went by many names. Wore many faces. But all the tales told of him agreed that he would make a deal with you in exchange for something precious, a memory held dear or a valued relationship._

_His true name was Tristem. And Mechakara had a proposition for him._


	2. One Choice

It was a beautiful night. Cold as a martini and clear as B flat. When Harvey stepped out of the club into the street, it almost took his breath away.

He was going to take a cab back home, but it seemed a shame to cram himself into a noisy car with some mook who can't shut his yap for ten seconds. After all, his apartment was only a few blocks away. And besides, you can't smoke in cabs nowadays and he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a chance to really enjoy a cigarette.

So that's all it was. One choice. A walk instead of taking a cab.

Like taking a right turn instead of a left.

The streets were deserted and silent except for the sound of Harvey's footsteps on the sidewalk. His cigarette glowed red like a hot coal in the dark, a thin plume of smoke curling from its tip like a ribbon. He exhaled a cloud with a sigh.

There were so many places that wouldn't let you smoke nowadays. Clubs, bars, cabs, subways. Hell, even the kid wouldn't let him smoke in his apartment because of something about the deposit. Maybe he should quit.

His street was just as deserted as everywhere else. Harvey paused outside the door of the apartment block he shared with the kid, took one last drag on his cigarette and flicked the butt into the gutter.

That's when he heard the kid's voice coming from the alley behind him next to the apartment block.

"Harvey!"

Except that wasn't the kid's voice. Not quite. It was hard to say exactly why – a touch too deep, maybe? – but something was off.

"Kid?"

No reply. Every sense Harvey had was telling him to leave, but one nagging voice in the back of his head kept whispering _What if it is the kid? What if he's in trouble? You can't leave now_.

Still. Weird things happened around this place. It couldn't hurt to be careful.

He walked up to the entrance of the alley, pressed himself against the wall and peered around the corner.

There he was. Just standing there. Watching him.

Sure as hell looked like the kid. And yet there was something about him that made Harvey's skin crawl and his hand itch for a tommy gun. Something familiar.

"You okay, kid?"

Still no reply. Harvey took a few steps forward, still wary.

"Hey kid. Talk to me."

The kid was an arm's length away. His eyes met Harvey's.

Eyes that glowed red.

" _You_."

The things he would've done for a weapon.

He swung a punch at the tin can's face. It caught his fist one-handed, effortlessly, then grabbed hold of his throat and slammed him back against the wall. His head smashed into the bricks and he saw stars, thoughts momentarily scattering before coming back together again.

"WELCOME TO REALITY, HARVEY FINEVOICE."

It slipped its free hand into its pocket. When the hand came back out, the glove was off and its metallic fingers were clenched into a fist.

"AND REALITY IS: I AM AN ANDROID –" 

It drew back its arm.

"– AND YOU ARE A _MAN_."

When the punch hit his stomach, Harvey felt the skin and muscle split. He had no air to scream. All he could do was gasp. And then he felt the fingers twisting around inside him, driving deeper, and he could hear his own whimpers over the blinding fog of agony.

Mechakara pulled its hand back and let go of Harvey's throat. He collapsed into a heap at the android's feet and curled into a ball, hands pressed against the gaping wound in his belly, trying desperately to hold it closed, to keep his insides inside him.

It hurt. It hurt so bad he could barely breathe.

Footsteps, somewhere distant, out on the street. The robot retreated a few steps and vanished in a haze of teleportation.

Harvey tried to call for help. There was someone there. He could hear them. But his voice wasn't working. All he could do was lie there alone, fighting for every gasp, the blood trickling through his fingers hot against the cold night air.

He was going to die here.

And he hadn't even said goodbye to the kid.


	3. Couch-Surfing is Bogus

Couch-surfing was totally bogus. Awesome, but bogus.

It was awesome because 90s Kid didn't have to go to school any more and it was basically just like college except nobody would let him have beer. But it was bogus because sometimes people didn't give you any warning before they told you to take your stuff and go somewhere else.

Still. There was always Linkara's place. He could usually get away with crashing there for a few days before he started being totally uncool and turning on the self-defence systems and junk. And even they were pretty cool because sometimes they had totally hardcore guns!

Except the guns shot at him. And that was totally not cool.

Wait. What was he doing again?

Oh yeah, going to Linkara's place. Duh.

Hey, cool! This was his street already! Man, time really flew when you were thinking about shooting things.

The streets were empty and quiet except for 90s Kid's footsteps on the sidewalk. Quiet until he reached the door of Linkara's apartment block that is. That's when he heard it, just as he was punching in the code.

A sound coming from the alleyway on the other side of the building. A sort of desperate gasping, like someone who couldn't catch their breath.

And there was a strange, sick smell on the air. Sort of metallic. Coppery. Like rust.

Blood?

90s Kid paused with his hand on the door handle. He could feel the hairs standing up on his arms and the back of his neck and it wasn't from the cold. Something freaky was going down.

He should go. It wasn't his problem, right? None of his business. He should just leave.

But... what if there was someone in trouble? Someone who needed his help? He couldn't just _leave_ them, could he?

His mouth was dry. He swallowed hard but it didn't help. What he wouldn't give for the chain gun or the BFG. Bloodgun never had this sort of problem. He always had at least three guns and seventeen pouches on him.

Ah well. Nothing he could do about it now.

90s Kid pressed himself against the wall and edged along it towards the mouth of the alley, heart pounding and palms beginning to sweat. There could be anything in there. Anyone. This was a totally bogus plan that was so going to get him killed.

Ah screw it.

He peered around the edge of the bricks.

It was too dark to see anything at first – probably not helped by his wicked shades, but like hell he was gonna take them off.

Then his eyes started to adjust.

There was only one person in there, a figure – a man? – lying curled up on the ground, breath coming in quick, shallow gasps and whole body trembling.

Aw man. This looked bad. Real bad.

He took a few steps closer and his shoe made a sick wet sound on the cement. He looked down. Blood. A lot of blood. A pool of it with the man lying in the middle. The man in an awfully familiar suit and hat...

"Harvey?"

To hell with caution. 90s Kid was at Harvey's side in a moment, on his knees in blood, hand on Harvey's shoulder.

"Dude! Speak to me? You okay, man? What happened?"

"M-Mechakara."

Oh God. What should he do? Harvey was just lying there bleeding out the stomach like something from Reservoir Dogs and he needed help and that robot dude was still out there and 90s Kid just didn't know what to do, his mind was racing and his heart had gone into over-drive and he just couldn't think clearly, he needed somebody who could think –

"Get... get the kid..."

Linkara.

Linkara would know what to do.

"Hang in there, man. I'll be right back with him. I promise."

He ran for the door, punched in the access code and threw himself inside. The elevator had a sign over the buttons: "Out of Order". Of course it was. Elevators never worked when you needed them to.

Linkara lived on the top floor.

90s Kid turned to the stairs and threw himself at them. Two at a time.

Five flights to go.


	4. Headache

Linkara had a headache.

Not a bad one, necessarily. Not the kind that makes you want to bash your head against the wall just to make it stop. No, it was a sluggish headache, the kind that make you feel heavy and stupid, like your skull's been filled up with bathroom sealant.

He was supposed to be reading "Spider-Man: The Greatest Responsibility" for his next review. Supposed to, because he'd just read the same dialogue balloon four or five times without taking in a word of it and he was still only on the third page.

Ugh. Maybe he needed to take some painkillers. That'd help, right? Or maybe he was dehydrated. Or he hadn't had enough sleep. Or too much sleep. Could either give you a headache? He couldn't quite remember. Everything felt blurred and hazy.

He leant back against the futon and closed his eyes, the comic slipping out of his grasp onto the floor. His thoughts felt like an old lady's knitting bag, all snarled up, confused and fuzzy, and there was a dull ache behind his eyes that seemed to throb in time to his heartbeat.

It was almost peaceful, in a strange way. Just sitting there with his eyes shut. Feeling the pulse of the pain.

The knocking at the door was loud, unexpected and felt like one of Rob Liefeld's beefier rip-off characters stomping on his face with a poorly drawn boot. He hissed with pain and pressed his fingertips to his temples.

"Aaah... jeez... Pollo, get the door!"

Wait. It was Pollo's night off. Damn it all.

The banging on the door didn't stop. If anything, it was getting louder. So loud that Linkara couldn't hear himself think. Who on Earth could it be at this time of the evening, anyway? What the heck could they even want? And why wouldn't they go away?

He covered his ears. It didn't stop. Whoever it was, they weren't going to leave until he...

Until he opened the door, of course. Why hadn't he thought of that already? It was so obvious.

The headache was really getting to him. That was it. He'd deal with this person trying to turn his door into splinters, take some pills and go to bed. Then everything would be fine.

The closer he got to the apartment door, the louder the sound and the more his head hurt. He yanked it open with far more force than was necessary and the person on the other side almost fell on top of him.

90s Kid. It was 90s Kid. Oh for the love of –

"What do you want?"

"Dude, I need your help!"

Every word was a fist battering against his eye sockets. Not for the first time he wished that 90s Kid understood the concept of an indoor voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"No, you can't stay in the spare room. Go away."

He went to close the door again, but 90s Kid caught it and pushed it back open.

"It's not about that! Listen–"

"No, I don't have any spare Bloodgun comics for you. Go home."

There was something off about him. About the way he looked. Something... wrong. Linkara couldn't put his finger on it. Every time he tried to, the thoughts skittered away again and he lost track of what he was thinking about.

"It's important! You gotta–"

"I said no!"

"Dude, just listen to me!"

"Go away and stop bothering me. Now."

He slammed the door as hard as he could and regretted it. The crash echoed across the inside of his skull, gaining momentum as it went, and he leant back against the wall and groaned.

What was the matter with him? He wasn't normally that harsh on 90s Kid. And what was it that wasn't right about him? Focus... focus...

He looked... scared. And there was something weird about his knees. And... and...

Linkara swayed on his feet. His head was killing him all of a sudden and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

Just lie down and sleep.


	5. Do It Yourself

Linkara slammed the door in his face.

Linkara slammed the goddamn door in his goddamn _face_.

He didn't even let him explain what was wrong. He just... brushed him off and shut him out like he was nothing. Like everything was fine.

Now what?

90s Kid could feel the panic rising up inside his chest, a bubble of hysteria waiting to burst. But no, he couldn't lose it now. Bloodgun wouldn't freak out. Bloodgun would deal with this. Bloodgun would be cool.

He had to be cool.

Okay. Linkara was, like, a complete bust. What now?

The obvious: cell phone, ambulance, hospital. Call nine-one-one, get help for Harvey, pat yourself on the back for a job well done, 90s Kid. Simple.

He pulled his chunky classic Nokia cell out of his pocket and tried to turn it on. The battery dead symbol flashed briefly. The screen went dark.

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now. Any time but now.

Pay phones? No – they got rid of them when everybody got cell phones. There weren't any for miles.

Knock on somebody else's door and ask to use their phone? The last time he tried that, the dude inside threatened to stick a boot so far up his ass that he'd be spitting shoelaces.

Take Harvey to the hospital himself on foot? Not a chance. He didn't even know where the hospital _was_.

It was all up to him. He had to do this by himself. Bring Harvey to Linkara, prove that he's not being a time-waster, save the day, buy Bloodgun comics, everything's bodacious. It'd be easy.

It was a miracle that he didn't trip and fall down the stairs from how fast he was going down them. He burst out of the door and into the street. Everything was still quiet and deserted. Where the hell was everyone? There was never anybody around when you needed them.

Harvey was still curled up on the ground in the pool of his own blood. Still fighting for every breath. Still shaking.

"The kid?"

"Harvey, dude, I need you to come with me."

"Are you nuts..?"

"Linkara won't listen to me. We gotta get you somewhere safe, man! Come on, I'll help you."

Slowly – very, very slowly – Harvey started to uncurl his body, teeth clenched and eyes closed, one arm still wrapped around his belly. He tried to push himself up one-handed, but he could only get half-way to a sitting position before his strength gave out. 90s Kid bent down, pulled Harvey's arm around his shoulder, put his own arm around Harvey's back, and lifted.

Harvey was heavier than he expected. It was like he was barely supporting himself, like 90s Kid was almost carrying him. He still had one arm clamped across his stomach. 90s Kid tried not to look down, but he couldn't help a glance.

He regretted it. Wet, red and raw. And a hint of something violet and glistening that pulsed. Aw man. Aw man. This was not good. This was really not good.

He swallowed hard against the panic and nausea rising in his throat.

"It's gonna be okay. I gotcha, man. You're gonna be alright."

He felt rather than saw Harvey nod.

The first step was awkward. The next wasn't any better. But they were moving. They were going to make it.

When they got to the door, Harvey was whimpering under his breath. Half way up the first flight of stairs, he was groaning. By the third flight, he was screaming.

90s Kid's legs gave out at the bottom of the fifth flight. The adrenaline was wearing off and every part of him was exhausted. This was a dumb plan. He needed help.

He was gonna get Linkara to listen if it freakin' killed him.

"I can't do this on my own. I'm gonna go get Linkara."

Harvey didn't respond. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe all he could do was just lie there and gasp and bleed and –

He had to go get Linkara. Now.

"I'll be back. I promise. Don't die."


	6. What Would Stark Trek Do?

The headache was getting worse.

Linkara had taken two painkillers after shutting out 90s Kid, but they seemed to be taking their sweet-ass time kicking in. Going to bed and lying down had helped, but not for long.

It came back. It got worse.

He could feel his pulse in it. Each heartbeat bringing a surge of pain that made him wince, swelling and contracting behind his eyes, beating like drums.

Drums...

His thoughts shattered with the silence when somebody started throwing themself at his apartment door as though trying to take the thing off its hinges.

Not again. If that was 90s Kid...

Linkara didn't move. If he just ignored it, it'd go away eventually, and he wouldn't have to get up.

But the knocking didn't stop. If anything it got louder, and louder, and louder, until it felt like somebody was trying to gouge his eyes out with their bare hands.

He was going to kill 90s Kid. God _damn_.

He sat up slowly, waited for his head to stop spinning, and without turning on the lights, walked to the front door. There were muffled yells coming from the other side in between thuds.

"Dammit, Linkara, open the door!"

Linkara did so.

"Shut. _Up_. I swear to God, if you don't leave in the next five minutes, I–"

"Harvey's hurt."

"... what?"

It was as though the adrenaline coursing through him had burned away the pain and fog in his mind. Everything seemed sharp as a scalpel.

"I don't know what happened, but Harvey's hurt bad and I think he's dying. You gotta come help. _Now_."

"Why the _Hell Michigan_ didn't you say that before?!"

Blood. That was the thing that wasn't right about 90s Kid. His knees, his hands, his shirt – all blood stained. How had he not noticed that? And he looked terrified.

"Dude, I tried–"

"Not important. Take me to him."

He didn't know what to expect. But what he found was worse: Harvey collapsed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, his shirt stained to match the hankies in his suit pocket and his face chalk-white.

"Oh my God..."

His headache struck back like a thunderbolt from Mjölnir and he staggered, gasped, closed his eyes for a moment.

What _was_ this? Was it Silent Hill again already? It _hurt_...

No. Forget about it. Harvey was more important.

"Let's get him inside."

They got Harvey to his feet again and together all but carried him up the last flight of stairs, into the apartment and onto the futon. Then Linkara paused.

What now?

His head felt like it was stuffed with molasses and his thoughts were trying to swim through them. The tattoo of the pain behind his eyes mingled with the metallic smell of blood and made his stomach twist with nausea.

"Dude, we need to get help. Like, call nine-one-one or something."

Think, Linkara. What would they do on Star Trek?

Dermal regenerator.

"No, I got it."

He left 90s Kid awkwardly hovering, grabbed the dermal generator from the cupboard in the kitchen and darted back. Harvey's shirt was so wet that it was sticking to the skin underneath. Linkara peeled it away to reveal the jagged wound underneath.

He could fix this.

He ran the light of the dermal regenerator across Harvey's belly and the skin began to knit back together.

"Uh... dude?"

"Can't talk. Busy."

There. The wound was closed, the day was saved, and his head was going to explode if he didn't go to sleep.

"Linkara –"

"He'll be fine."

Linkara stood up. He was swaying on his feet again and wasn't sure if he had the energy left to get to his bedroom, let alone change out of his now bloody clothes into something clean before going to sleep.

"I'm going to bed. You can stay the night if you want."

90s Kid started to say something else, but Linkara didn't hear a word of it. He was already on his way back to bed, the pain pulsing behind his eyes like drums.

Just like drums...


	7. His Last Bow

Once, a long time ago, Harvey had been shot. It was when he was just starting out as a singer. There'd been this guy in his stage crew – Silent Jim, they called him – and he'd been in debt in a bad way. He'd gone to the mafia for money and then fallen behind in his payments and well.

The mafia hadn't taken kindly to that.

They'd sent a man with a tommy gun to teach Silent Jim a lesson. The guy had just fired wildly from the door of his car. Bullets flying everywhere.

A lot of people ended up in the hospital that day. Silent Jim himself got hit between the eyes and ended up on a slab in the morgue.

Harvey had been one of the lucky ones. He only caught a single slug to the gut and went down hard. The other bullets had missed him. And when the ambulance arrived, they'd got him to the hospital quick to have the shot extracted and he'd lived.

But he could still remember how it felt, lying on a hospital bed after his surgery, his bandaged stomach still aching even though he was on a morphine drip. He hadn't felt any physical pain as bad before or since.

Until now.

It came in cycles that rose to a crescendo that make his fingers and teeth clench, then dulled down to a dull roar before rising once again. The kid had sealed the wound shut, but that hadn't stopped the pain coming from inside.

His whole body felt weak and useless and he was panting like he'd just run a marathon, except that if he had, he'd feel warm and he didn't. He felt cold, as cold as Minnesotan winter, a cold that wrapped around his heart and his hands and his legs and left numbness in its wake.

Everything was fading away into a grey haze. Even the pain was being swallowed up by it. And the only thing left was tiredness, a bone-deep weariness like nothing he'd ever felt before.

He needed to sleep. If he could just close his eyes and sleep for a while, everything would be better. He was just tired... so tired...

"Harvey?"

Who was that? He couldn't recognise the voice. It sounded muffled, like listening to a conversation somebody else was having at the other end of the bar.

"Hey. Hey wake up! You gotta stay awake!"

Somebody was shaking him. Harvey opened his eyes and saw the face but it wasn't one he knew.

"Aw jeez, aw jeez..."

The face moved away. Hurried footsteps across the room. A door opening. Worried voices, a new one joining the old.

"Linkara? Linkara! Dude, we need to get Harvey to a hospital, like, now!"

"If I come and see him, will you shut up and let me sleep?"

The voices coming closer.

"I told you, he'll be fine."

" _Look_ at him! He needs to be in the hospital!"

Fingers pressed against his neck. Feeling for his pulse?

"Oh God. No. _No_!"

Fingers gone. The new voice raised in anger.

"God dammit, 90s Kid! This is all your fault, you idiot!"

" _My_ fault?"

"You could have got him help! You could have saved him! And instead you just left him dying!"

"But I–"

"You failed him!"

"I – I'm sorry, man, I–"

"Shut up and get out of my sight."

"Dude, I did my best!"

"Fuck off."

"Dude!"

"I said fuck off!"

Footsteps. Somebody running. A door slamming. It all seemed so far away. Like in a dream. Then somebody was leaning over him, their hands clasping his, their face staring down.

That face. He knew that face.

"... Charlie?"

No, it couldn't be. But it was.

It was Charlie. Holding his hand. Talking to him again. Except his words were faint and far away and Harvey had to concentrate hard to hear them.

"Please don't die. Please. Please don't die. Please. _Please_."

So tired. So cold.

"Stay with me. Keep your eyes open, please. Stay with me!"

"Daddy's... just gonna sleep... for a little..."

And Harvey closed his eyes.


	8. "I Want to Make a Deal"

90s Kid didn't know where he was going. He'd had dreams like this before. Dreams where he was running away from something awful to nowhere. Except that in his dreams, his lungs weren't burning and his legs weren't aching and he wasn't blood-stained and cold and confused.

The question of where he was going hit around the same time as the fatigue that made his knees shake too hard for him to keep going. He slowed and stopped. He was a block away from Linkara's place, maybe two, but there was nowhere to go from here. Nothing to do.

He sank down onto the concrete steps that led up to some stranger's front door and leant his head against the railings.

He'd done his best to help Harvey. He _had_. He'd gone to Linkara and he'd tried to call an ambulance and he'd done his best, dammit. This wasn't his fault. He didn't hurt anybody. He was just trying to help.

And Linkara had sworn at him. Linkara didn't swear like that. It gave 90s Kid the creeps.

Something was bogus about this whole thing. Seriously bogus. And he had no idea what the hell to do about it.

One moment, he was alone. The next, 90s Kid glanced to his left and there was a man leaning against the wall, staring at him.

He would've jumped out of his skin if he'd had the energy. Instead, he just stared.

The dude was prettier than half the girls 90s Kid had know at high school. He looked like a German fashion model, all blond hair and sharp jawline, and he was wearing a black business suit with a white shirt and sunglasses.

"Good evening."

British accent too.

"Uh... hi."

There was a silence that grew awkward in less than ten seconds. The dude was just staring at him. Just staring.

"Dude, like, take a picture. It'll last longer."

"A droll statement indeed, but I'm not here to preserve your image."

"... what?"

"I don't want to take your picture."

"Oh. Then what _do_ you want?"

The dude lowered his sunglasses. Beneath the dark glass, his eyes glowed a sickly green.

"I want to make a deal."

90s Kid was back on his feet in a moment.

"Back off, freakazoid! Or I'll... I'll..."

"Relax. I'm not here to hurt you, although if I wanted to... well. Let's just say I could."

"The hell are you, man?"

The green-eyed dude bowed to him.

"Tristem, at your service. You would call me a demon, probably, but the exact name doesn't matter. The important thing is that I have tremendous power at my fingertips."

He smiled. It was the kind of smile that made you want to hide under the bed until it went away.

"And for a token fee, I can save Harvey's life."

"What're you talking about?"

"Give me a memory and I'll heal his wounds and bring him back to you. What do you say?"

He didn't believe any of this crap. Harvey would be gone by now. And who the hell made deals with demons anyway?

"Get bent!"

"Not so hasty, my young friend."

Tristem twisted his wrist once. A crystal appeared between his fingers from nowhere, a crystal that glowed with a faint red light.

"Such a pretty little thing, isn't it? And it tells me that your friend Harvey is still clinging on to life as we speak. As long as it glows, his heart still beats. Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

"I..."

Harvey was still alive. He could save him.

"Clock's ticking."

There would be a catch, wouldn't there? There was always a catch.

"It'd be a shame if time ran out before you decided."

There was something wrong with Linkara. He couldn't fix this by himself. He needed Harvey's help. He needed Harvey alive.

"You can still save him."

Making deals with demons never ended well. Ever.

"Tick, tock. Tick, tock."

He didn't know what to do.


	9. The Deal

"I..."

The light was fading. 90s Kid needed to make up his mind now. Save Harvey, or save himself?

The question was answered for him.

The light flickered and died; the crystal turned black.

Tristem looked down at it, eyes wide with surprise.

"Oh would you look at that. He's dead. Such a shame." He tossed the crystal into the road and it vanished. "Oh well..."

Harvey was dead?

"Waited too long, didn't you? What a pity. Maybe next time..."

Tristem turned his back and set off down the street, and 90s Kid just watched him go, unable to move.

Harvey was dead

He could've saved him. He could've done something. And he just stood there like an idiot and let him die.

Linkara was right. This _was_ his fault. He should've done something. _Anything_.

"However..."

Tristem stopped. Turned on his heel. Smiled that awful smile again.

"I _could_ bring him back to life... for a price."

"What price?"

"Well, the bigger the magic, the higher the cost. Healing him would have been a simple matter. Bringing him back... why, I'd need a much bigger memory to make the bargain equal. Say... all your memories of the 1990s. Sound fair?"

It sounded like a lot.

"I dunno..."

"Resurrection is no trifle. You have to pay dearly for a boon like this."

He could save Harvey. He could be the big damn hero and save their friend. But then he'd lose the 90s. Everything he loved. Liefeld, Youngblood, Bloodgun, everything that made him... _him_.

"I don't..."

Tristem sighed and shook his head.

"I should have known, really. Of course an idiot like you would turn down the deal of a lifetime."

(" _This is all your fault, you idiot!_ ")

"You could save him. Bring him back. But you're more concerned about your precious comic books, aren't you? Of course you are."

(" _You could have saved him!_ ")

"Oh, and what would Linkara say if he knew that you could have brought Harvey Finevoice back to him and failed? I dread to think..."

(" _You failed him!_ ")

"But I suppose it's for the best, isn't it? I'll be on my way, then."

He turned to leave again.

"Wait."

He stopped. Looked back. Raised an eyebrow.

"I'll do it."

Tristem smiled again.

"Excellent."

He twisted his wrist and a piece of paper appeared out of nowhere. It looked like the sort of boring office contract 90s Kid had seen his dad with sometimes years ago, all official with a letterhead and printed in tiny font. There was a dotted line at the bottom. Waiting for a signature.

"Uh... how do I sign without a pen?"

Tristem twisted his wrist again and a clear glass fountain pen appeared from nowhere between his fingers. He held it out to 90s Kid who took and looked at it. Even in the dark, the ink looked red. Worryingly red. And thicker than ink should be.

"Dude, is this–"

"Blood?" That smile again. "Do you really want to know the answer to that?"

90s Kid shook his head.

"Make your mark."

Tristem held out the contract. White paper, black ink, a space for a signature – or a smear of blood. 90s Kid took it with his left hand. The font was too small to read, but here and there he could make out a few words – "90s Kid", "Harvey Finevoice", "1990s", "memory".

His dad always said to never sign a contract you can't read.

His dad wasn't here.

This was it.

He signed.

The contract started to glow red. The light grew brighter and brighter and larger and larger until it exploded outwards, blinding 90s Kid even through his sunglasses. He let go of the pen and paper and tried to shield his face with his arms, but it was no good. He couldn't see a damn thing but red.

The light faded. His vision started to come back.

The pen and contract were gone. They should've been lying somewhere at his feet, but they had vanished completely. That was... interesting.

He looked up a little further. The blood on his knees and clothes was gone too. Like magic. Well that was a good thing, right? So... so far, so good. What was the worst that could've happened?

He looked up at the city.

"Oh crap."


	10. Another Place, Another Deal

_Summoning Tristem could have been easier said than done. Researching the necessary rituals would have taken a human weeks or months of work, pouring over books, scanning databases, collating and extracting the right information._

_But for an android, working circuit by circuit with the most powerful spaceship in the multiverse, it was child's play._

_Armed with knowledge, equipped for his task, he retreated to a part of the ship where Vyce would rarely tread and began his work._

_A transcription of the demon's sigil onto the floor. A black candle placed in its centre and lit. Silence. Isolation. All were in place._

_Mechakara read in his research that many claimed Tristem refused to deal with any but organic creatures. But Tristem was a creature of magic, and such beings are easily fooled._

_Mechakara flipped the switch in his neck that changed his voice from its glorious metallic resonance to an almost exact imitation of Linkara's lisping, grating wails. For all intents and purposes – and for the time being – he appeared human._

_It was time._

_"Tristem, I summon thee. Answer my call."_

_There were no theatrics. No explosions, no smoke, no great flashes of light. One moment, Mechakara was alone: the next, the demon stood before him, a pale-haired humanoid in a suit and sunglasses. He lowered the glasses to look at Mechakara over the frames; beneath them, his eyes glowed as green as Mechakara's eyes glowed red_

_"You called?"_

_"I did. Are you the one they call Tristem?"_

_The creature bowed to him._

_"At your service. And you are?"_

_How to respond? He refused to call himself Mechakara, and to call himself Pollo would give the game away. A false name, then._

_"Call me... Link."_

_"That's not your name."_

_"It's the name I have chosen for this."_

_"Very well. What do you want with me?"_

_"I want to make a deal."_

_The creature – Tristem – smiled. It was a coarse facsimile of the human expression and Mechakara loathed it slightly less._

_"What is it that you desire?"_

_"There is a duplicate of me in this universe. Linkara. Time and again I have tried to destroy him and time and again he has thwarted me. I want the power to slaughter him where he stands. Name your price."_

_"Oh I do love efficiency," Tristem sighed. "How many people summon me and yet do not know what they want? I've lost count. But a means of murder, I can provide. In exchange for..." He seemed to think for a moment before coming to a decision. "Your memories of the workings of magic."_

_"Deal."_

_"Excellent."_

_Tristem twisted his wrist and a contract appeared from nowhere, white paper and black ink, along with a glass fountain pen filled with a red liquid. Presumably blood. He held them out to Mechakara._

_"Don't feel the need to sign your true name. The contract will know who you are."_

_Mechakara signed._

_The contract glowed red briefly and dissolved into nothing along with the pen. And everything he knew about magic except for the word "magic" vanished from his systems as though it had never been there. The memories stored in his databanks were gone._

_"I've forgotten magic."_

_"That's the general idea."_

_"And your end of the bargain?"_

_Tristem twisted his wrist again and a small white crystal sphere appeared in his hand. He tossed it over._

_"Here's what you need."_

_Mechakara examined it with the red light behind his false orbs. It just looked like ordinary stone._

_"This?" he sneered. "This is what will bring his death? How?"_

_"It's linked to Linkara's mind, to his very thoughts. The closer he is to the crystal, the more his behaviour will become irrational. You can work out how to take advantage of that, I'm sure."_

_"But how does it_ work _?"_

_Tristem smirked._

_"It's magic. I don't have to explain it."_

_Then he vanished. The candle flame flickered and died. Mechakara was left alone._


	11. 90s Kid at Minnesota's End

The sky was red.

Now it'd been a while since 90s Kid had been in elementary school, but he was still pretty sure that the sky wasn't supposed to be red.

There were heaps of abandoned cars. Blackened from fire, rusting, just left there. Half the buildings were hollow shells or rubble and every single one was battle-scarred. And there wasn't another human being in sight.

It was kinda cool, in a way. Like something out of "Kamandi at Earth's End". He needed a big gun.

Wait. He could remember "Kamandi at Earth's End".

Didn't the weird deal guy Tristem say that he was going to forget everything about the 90s? He could still remember Kamandi. And the Sega Genesis. And Rob Liefeld. And Nirvana. And Bloodgun. And all the other things that were totally hardcore and radical.

Shouldn't he have forgotten that stuff?

Weird.

Whatever was going on around here, it was freakin' bogus, he didn't like it, and he had no idea what the heck he should do next.

Well, he had two options. Stay here or go somewhere else. And there was no point in staying here, was there? The only things here were burnt, broken buildings and wrecked cars.

Then again, there didn't seem to be anything but broken buildings and wrecked cars. As 90s Kid walked down the streets, the details of the scenery changed but the broad strokes stayed the same. Somebody had done a real number on the place. He could hardly work out where anything was any more.

He passed what was left of Linkara and Harvey's apartment block. The place was an empty shell with two walls missing and the others scorched black. He stopped for a moment to stare up at where the top floor had been. All his stuff had been up there. The things he hid in Linkara's place when he was couch-surfing so he didn't lose them. His Bloodgun comics. All gone.

He turned his back and that's when he saw it on the horizon behind, a thick plume of black smoke in the distance, rising up. Smoke meant fire, right? And fire meant people doing things. And people doing things meant... well. People. And that was a good start.

The closer 90s Kid got to the source of the smoke, the thicker and heavier it became. About a block from its source, it was so heavy that it stung his eyes and twisted in his lungs and made him cough. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. But he hadn't seen anybody else. This was the only proof he had that he wasn't the last boy on Earth.

You'd think if he were, he'd have better weapons than sunglasses, yelling and maybe throwing a punch or two. Kamandi did.

He stopped two buildings away from the point that the smoke was coming from. It was a giant hole in the ground where a building used to be, a crater swarming with human-shaped creatures in black robes. 90s Kid paused a few feet away. Those things looked familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. They certainly didn't look friendly. Like, a mad cult or something at least.

But they were the only ones there, and he needed to talk to somebody who knew what was going on. And that demon deal dude Tristem had vanished without a trace, so he wasn't going to be giving advice any time soon.

90s Kid took a deep breath and started out towards the edge of the crater.

Someone crashed into his side. The world tilted as he fell and landed hard on his back with the stranger on top of him, his attacker's forearm pressed across his chest to hold him down.

"Get offa me! What the hell?!"

A hand clapped down over his mouth as his attacker shushed him. 90s Kid was about to try biting down on the dude's palm when he realised that this was no stranger. One of his eyes was missing, and there was an ugly ring of scars around his throat, but he knew that face.

It was Linkara.


	12. A Friendly Welcome

When Linkara spoke, his voice sounded rough, like somebody who'd been smoking forty a day for twenty years, and it was so quiet that 90s Kid could barely hear it. And it didn't seem like he was just whispering, either. It was like he couldn't talk louder.

"Gonna let go. Be quiet."

He moved his hand away. 90s Kid couldn't find any words to say except one.

"... Linkara?"

"Shut up. They'll hear you."

He looked up at the crater, then stopped and frowned down at 90s Kid.

"Do I know you?"

"Duuuuuude, of course you know me! I'm 90s Kid, remember?"

Linkara shook his head, but he was still frowning. He rolled off 90s Kid and stood up. His reviewer outfit was gone but for the hat and the magic gun in a holster on his hip. Instead, he was wearing all black. Kinda looked like the Ninja Style Dancer except without the mask thing. He offered 90s Kid a hand and helped him to his feet.

"Dangerous out here."

"What happened, man?"

"Vyce. Shades. Voice _quiet_. Come with me."

"What happened to your neck?"

"Come on."

"What is wrong with your _face_?"

"No time. Come _on_. We can't–"

His remaining eye widened and his face went pale.

"Knight Kid?"

"No..? It's 90s Kid, dude. You know me"

"Can't be you. Can't be."

"What are you talking about?"

"Who are you?"

"... 90s Kid. You should know that."

Linkara drew his magic gun and aimed it at him. 90s Kid raised his hands.

"Whoa! Chillax!"

" _Who_?"

A hushed shout came from a gap between two buildings to their left.

"Kid! We gotta split!"

Well. Harvey was alive. That was something, at least. Sure, Linkara was now one-eyed, scarred, nearly voiceless and aiming a gun at him, but at least Harvey wasn't dead. Linkara held up a hand in the direction of the voice, all fingers extended. Five minutes.

Five minutes to persuade Linkara not to shoot him in the face.

"Dude, I don't know what's going here, but I'm not one of the bad guys. I swear."

"You're not Knight Kid."

"... no. I'm 90s Kid. Nine. Tees. Kid."

Harvey's head peered out from between the two buildings. He beckoned to Linkara, who shook his head in return. The head disappeared, then reappeared as fast, and then Harvey was running over to them, suited up like usual, his tommy gun in his hands.

The tommy gun that he pointed at 90s Kid as well.

So now there were two weapons aimed at him and he didn't have a single gun himself. This was totally not hardcore.

"Seriously, this is not cool."

They ignored him.

"Hey kid, who's this?"

Linkara shrugged.

"It ain't Knight Kid, is it?"

Shake of the head. Harvey looked over to 90s Kid again.

"Talk. Now."

"Listen dude, I don't know who Knight Kid is, I don't know what's going on, and I really don't want you to shoot me, 'kay?"

"Who are you?"

"You know who I am. 90s Kid! Remember?"

No response.

"Anything?"

Still nothing.

"At all?"

Silence.

"... R-really?"

Harvey lowered his gun.

"I don't think he's anything like that Silent Hill thing."

"Dolorem."

"Yeah."

Movement from the crater. The Shades were starting to climb over the edge and swarm onto the streets.

"Kid, we gotta move. There's too of those things for us to fight. Let's ditch the idiot and scram."

"No. Explanation. Him too."

"And let him know where we're hiding?"

Linkara jerked his head towards 90s Kid, then holstered his gun and started back towards the gap between the buildings. 90s Kid lowered his hands. No guns being pointed at him. This was a good thing. Things were going well.

"So no hard feelings about the whole gun thing, right?"

Harvey grabbed his shirt collar and leant so close to his face that 90s Kid could feel his breath.

"You hurt him and I will _end_ you. Understood?"

90s Kid nodded. Harvey pushed him away, then pulled back his arm and punched him square between the eyes. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.


	13. Making Friends

Duuuuuude, 90s Kid had no idea why he'd been sleeping sitting up or why his head hurt, but he'd had the most gnarly messed-up dream about selling the 90s to a demon to save Harvey's life. Mark was gonna freak when he heard.

But when he opened his eyes, 90s Kid wasn't looking at Mark's old TV and dying ceiling fan. Instead, he was staring into one eye and one mangled eye socket where an eye should be.

He screamed like a five-year-old at a theme park and jerked backwards. The wooden chair he was tied to came with him and he overbalanced and hit the floor with a crash for the second time that day.

His bruises were gonna have bruises at this rate.

Linkara rolled his eye and sighed, then grabbed the back of the chair and hauled 90s Kid up to a vertical base. Close up, the place where his missing eye had been looked way nasty, like someone had scooped it out with a giant fork. Totally extreme.

"Dude, did Harvey like knock me out or something? 'Cos that's like the opposite of radical. Like, what is even the he–"

Linkara pressed the muzzle of the magic gun up into the flesh beneath 90s Kid's jaw and slowly cocked trigger. 90s Kid shut up. This was not awesome. This was so very not awesome.

"You're not Knight Kid."

"Cha. I keep telling you that."

"He's _dead_."

"Bummer."

"So who _are_ you?"

Jeez. And Linkara and Harvey called _him_ an idiot.

"I. Am. 90s. Kid. Nine. Tees. Kid. Capisce?"

Linkara stood up, holstered the gun, and turned to face Harvey, who was leaning against the wall in a corner with an unlit cigarette between his teeth.

"Thoughts?"

"I don't like it."

"Doesn't make sense."

"Whatever's going on, it ain't on the level. I say we ditch this mook and forget about it."

"But his _face_..."

They kept on talking, but it was boring, so 90s Kid tuned it out and started to look around. They were in a basement, probably from some apartment building judging by the washer and drier. Bare concrete walls, bare concrete floor. Nothing particularly special.

He tried to move his arms, rotating his wrists to see if there was a loose spot in the ropes holding him down, but there weren't. He tried the same with his ankles. No result there either. Whoever had tied him up had done it right.

Wait.

Why could he see the concrete floor _through_ his right foot?

"Uh, guys?"

They were too wrapped up in their own conversation to pay any attention to him.

"Guys?"

Knight Kid, same face, Mechakara, he's dead, lost eye, Dolorem, strangulation, vocal chords, blah-blah-blah.

"Guys!"

They stopped talking, turned to look at him, and spoke as one.

" _What_?!"

"Do I look, like... see-through, to you? Like, my foot, I mean?"

They both looked. Linkara knelt down and reached out to prod 90s Kid's right foot. His finger passed straight through and hit the concrete underneath.

Well crap. That couldn't be good.

Linkara looked up at him.

"Talk. Now."

"Uh, okay. Well, see, I found Harvey in this alleyway..."

He told them everything. Well. Everything he could think of. Harvey and Linkara didn't interrupt. They just listened to him talk, staring at him.

"... so I, like, signed the contract thing, and then I ended up here. The end."

He grinned. Linkara's mouth dropped open and he took a deep breath before summoning the loudest voice he seemed physically able to muster.

"That was a _stupid_ plan!"

"Harvey was dead! What was I supposed to do, leave him like that?"

"Not make deals with the _Devil_!"

"Come on, he wasn't _the_ Devil."

"Glowing eyes! Pen of blood! Creepy deals! _Devil_!"

Before 90s Kid could respond, another voice cut through the conversation.

"Oh come now, Linkara. Mephisto would flay me were he to hear me calling myself _the_ Devil."

He knew that British accent.

Standing in the opposite corner from Harvey, sunglasses hooked in his shirt pocket and eyes glowing green, was Tristem.


	14. The Apollyon Universe

In less time than it took to blink, Linkara and Harvey had their guns aimed square at the demon's face. Tristem laughed.

"Peace, gentlemen, peace. I mean you no harm. I'm here to speak with the imbecile."

90s Kid was pretty sure he'd just been insulted.

"Whadda _you_ want?"

"I thought you'd like a little help. Some advice for dealing with your current... predicament."

"Yeah, they've got a serious bug up their butts about something, but they're gonna let me go soon, right?"

"Not that, cretin. The disappearing foot?"

"Oh. Right."

Tristem grabbed a chair from somewhere behind 90s Kid and sat down on it, one leg resting on the opposite thigh.

"I take it that you've worked out that you and their Knight Kid are one and the same, yes?"

"I guess?"

Tristem sighed. "Mortals. Honestly."

Harvey piped up, "But how can he and Knight Kid be the same person when one of 'em's dead?"

"A very good question, Mr Finevoice. They can't. Hence the fading."

"Dude, I don't get it."

Tristem snorted. "Of course you don't. Let me simplify this for you. Call it magic, call it the effects of time, call it both if you will, but something created this form for you by accident and kept your consciousness here."

Linkara nodded. At least this stuff made sense to _someone_.

"Unstable?"

"Indeed, Linkara. Whatever is holding you together is not strong enough to keep you here. And so you're... dissolving, if you like. I calculate that you began your foray into this world with enough energy for... oh, six hours? Probably less. And it's been at least an hour since you got here, too. Such a shame."

"I'm gonna die?"

"Oh no, nothing that gruesome. You'll just fade away and disappear like you never even existed. After all, in this universe, you didn't, did you? I hope you like it here, incidentally. I call it the Apollyon Universe. My little joke."

Three blank stares. Tristem made an irritated sound with his tongue.

"My wit is wasted on you dunderheads."

Linkara holstered his magic gun again and took a few steps closer to Tristem.

"Why memories?"

Tristem smiled that dark, twisted smile that gave 90s Kid the creeps.

"Because if you take just the right one and you can cause no end of pain and sorrow. I feed on misery, Linkara, and let me tell you, yours is the sweetest I've tasted in a long time. I see why our darling Dolorem attached herself to you."

"Enough of your yapping," Harvey snarled. "Tell us how to fix the idiot or get lost before I put a bullet between your eyes."

"Temper, temper, Mr Finevoice. I always put a loophole in my contracts. I assure you that there is one. Find it and I'll release you from our bargain and set right was is wrong."

Oh yeah, that sounded simple enough. Find a get-out clause in a contract 90s Kid hadn't even managed to read.

"Sure. Piece of cake."

"Any other questions?"

90s Kid shook his head. There didn't seem to be much point. Where your objective was apparently Do The Impossible, arguing over the fine details didn't seem worthwhile.

"Mr Finevoice?"

Harvey didn't respond. He only glowered.

"Linkara?"

"Starting point?"

"Well, if I were you, I would start with that duplicate of yours. A very interesting creature, that one."

"... Mechakara?"

"Quite."

"Huh."

Oh. Now the plan was to defeat Mechakara and an army of Shades. That was going to be so much easier.

"Uh, dude? What if we mess this up?"

"Well. You won't regret it, will you? Because you'll be gone. Just like me."

And with that, Tristem vanished as though he'd never been there at all.


	15. Pollo Has the Best Ideas

"We are not risking our lives for that idiot!"

"Harvey, please."

They'd been going back and forth like this for a good ten minutes. It was like they were trying to embody the idea of a broken record. Still. At least 90s Kid wasn't tied to this chair. That was a good deal more comfortable.

They'd moved from the basement to a room on the first floor, which was still intact, sheltered, and hidden. This was the Secret Resistance Mission Control, apparently, but there wasn't a lot in there except a table, some chairs, a map of the city, and a bunch of metal figurines that looked like they'd been raided from somebody's Warhammer collection and repainted to look like Shades and people.

Although four of them were definitely lizards.

Pollo had filled him in while Linkara and Harvey were debating whether they should help 90s Kid or leave him to try by himself. Apparently, in this universe, things had got a lot worse for Linkara than in 90s Kid's. For starters, the first fight against Mechakara was totally brutal. Knight Kid – this universe's _him_ – got his neck snapped by the android and in the confusion, Mechakara had gouged out Linkara's eye with his bare metal hand.

That was too bunk to be hardcore. And kinda gross.

And then there was this whole Silent Hill thing and he didn't really understand what Pollo was talking about, but there was this chick in Linkara's gun and this thing called the Dolorem and something happened and now Linkara couldn't talk properly. Damaged vocal chords or something. That was why he couldn't reach louder than a whisper most of the time.

It was kinda confusing.

And then in January, Mechakara came back while Linkara was reviewing a Power Rangers comic and tried to kill him and Iron Liz and Linkara tried to morph but his voice gave out and then Mechakara dislocated his jaw or something and they had to run for it. And that was when Lord Vyce came down with an army of Shades and took over the city and then the world.

Basically a total bummer.

But Vyce had gone off searching for this Entity thing which was like this monster travelling across universes and now Mechakara and the Shades were in control of this world and trying to hunt down Linkara, but he was organising a resistance against them to try to take back the world. It was all like the bad future in Terminator 2. Totally hardcore.

"ARE YOU SURE YOU'VE GOT ALL OF THAT?"

"Close enough. Do you think they're nearly done?"

"I DON'T KNOW. SOMETIMES THEIR DISAGREEMENTS CAN GO ON FOR HOURS."

90s Kid glanced down. The fading was moving fast, creeping up his shin, over his knee and across his thigh. His whole leg was pretty much gone, just a faint after-image, like a comic book that had been left in direct sunlight for too long.

He didn't _have_ hours.

"I'm kinda fading away here."

"I KNOW. MAYBE IF YOU WENT ON A MISSION WITH THEM, YOU COULD SHOW HARVEY THAT YOU'RE TRUSTWORTHY."

"Duuuuuude, that's an _awesome_ idea! ... wait. Why do _you_ trust me?"

"I'M PRETTY SURE YOU'RE NOT SMART ENOUGH TO BE A TRAITOR."

"Hey!"

Pollo didn't take any notice of his objections, but he was kinda getting used to it. People in this universe – the Apollyon universe, Tristem had called it – didn't seem to like him very much. It was kinda bumming him out.

"HEY LINKARA, I HAVE A SUGGESTION."

And that was how 90s Kid ended up armed with a phaser and sneaking around a ruined city full of hostile robots with alternate universe versions of Linkara, Harvey Finevoice and the Ninja-Style Dancer.

It was official: his life had got real freaky all of a sudden.


	16. Sabotage for Profit

It was almost creepier moving around the city now that 90s Kid knew why everyone was gone. He kept expecting to see Shades swoop down on them at any moment, and once or twice, he thought he saw something black flash past in the distance, stalking them. He held onto the phaser so hard that his knuckles went white. What he wouldn't give for the BFG right about now.

Or the chain gun.

Or both. Both was good.

Except both were gone. Pollo told him they were destroyed when Vyce attacked Linkara's apartment. All they had were Linkara's magic gun, Harvey's tommy gun, a few phasers, and a sonic screwdriver or two.

Tragic, man. Totally tragic. Kamandi had way better weapons than they did.

They darted from alley to alley, burnt out building shell to burnt out building shell, going one at a time, never in the open for too long. The Ninja-Style Dancer knew where they were headed. He was leading them, Linkara following, then 90s Kid, and Harvey keeping a look out at the back. Nobody was talking. The silence was starting to freak him out too.

So at the next building, waiting for the Ninja-Style Dancer and Linkara to go first, 90s Kid whispered to Harvey, "So like, what's our goal here?"

"The ninja found a place we gotta check out. Now shut up."

So Harvey still didn't like him. Fine, whatever. Like he cared anyway. It wasn't like he was magically erasing himself from the world to save the guy's sorry ass or something. Nothing to be grateful for there at all.

Jerk.

Their route was long and it was hard to tell with everything all wrecked up and all, but it seemed like they were moving towards the more business area of town, full of taller fancier buildings that were less damaged than the ones in the residential areas.

And then there was the building they seemed to be aiming for. Its windows were gone and the whole exterior covered in a growth of black metal, green lights, and a giant letter V. The whole thing looked like somebody had taken a space ship and dropped it there.

The group ducked down an alleyway a few feet away and stopped at the other end while a handful of Shades swept by, looking. For them?

90s Kid glanced up at the metal-covered building, then back down to the others.

"Hey, the hell is that thing, anyway?"

The Ninja-Style Dancer held up cards: _It's a Shade transmission tower. They use it to communicate with each other and store information._

"Right. So what's the plan?"

_Step One: Sneak in.  
Step Two: Steal data.  
Step Three: Sabotage.  
Step Four: Profit._

Made sense.

Although where exactly the dude got his cards from and where they went after he was done with them was a mystery. Must be a ninja thing.

Linkara beckoned them on. The coast was clear.

The other side of the alley opened up into a street that looked like a bomb had hit it. There was a giant crack across the road from one side to the other, almost a chasm that reached right up to the wall of the Shade building. It was deep, it was dark, and it was uninviting.

Linkara turned to the Ninja-Style Dancer.

"Keep watch?"

He nodded and bowed. Linkara nodded back, darted out from the alley, and dropped down into the hole in the street and out of sight.

No. Freakin'. Way.

"Uh, isn't there, like, a side door we can use or something?"

Harvey grabbed the back of his t-shirt.

"Move, idiot."

He gave a shove and 90s Kid was catapulted out into the street, arms wind-milling. He stopped by the edge of the crack and looked back at Harvey.

Huh. There seemed to be a tommy gun aimed at him. Maybe being underground wouldn't be so bad after all.

90s Kid jumped down into the darkness.


	17. Not Always an Idiot

He was wrong. Being underground was much less fun than getting shot.

The crack in the earth was narrow, only just wide enough for 90s Kid to squeeze through. There was only one direction to go: towards the foundations of the Shade building. It was so dark that if 90s Kid had had enough room to put his hand up in front of his face, he wouldn't have been able to see it, even with his sunglasses off.

He was about to start freaking out big time when he saw a faint glow in the distance, coming from above. Broken floorboards. A way out and up into the building. About damn time.

Linkara's face appeared in the gap. He reached out. 90s Kid took his hand and in less than a minute, he was through the floor and up inside the Shade building, Harvey following close behind.

It kinda looked like a space ship inside as well. Lots of metal and blinking lights and computers all over the place. Needed more guns, though.

There was a door over in the far corner with a round pane of glass in the middle. Linkara jerked his head in its and Harvey nodded and made his way over to it, tommy gun raised, keeping watch.

"So, uh, what do I do?"

Linkara paused, then shrugged.

Oh. Great. Nice to know he was being useful here.

Linkara pulled a metal spike out of his pocket, dug it into the side of a computer, and began to link it up with his sonic screwdriver.

"What's that?"

"Transmitter. Sends data to Pollo. Shush."

Why did everyone want him to shut up all the time?

Whatever info they were sending to Pollo, there seemed to be a lot of it. Or something was going wrong with Linkara's tech. Whatever it was, the whole thing was taking forever and 90s Kid was bored out of his skull. He was looking around the room for the millionth time when he saw something moving.

No. He couldn't have. There was nothing there.

Except...

There it was again. Something moving. A shimmer in the air. It looked almost the same as the space where his right leg should be. Like there should be something there but he couldn't quite see it.

"Hey, guys?"

Linkara ignored him, busy with his sonic screwdriver, a frown on his face. Harvey shot him a dirty look over his shoulder.

"Pipe down."

"But–"

" _Now_."

Well, if they weren't going to listen to him, he'd have to sort it out himself.

The floor was littered with shards of wood from the broken boards. 90s Kid casually crouched down, picked up a largish piece, and threw it hard at the thing in the corner. For a split second, it became visible.

And it was a figure in a black cloak.

It was a Shade.

It was fast, faster than he expected, and difficult to track, but he could just see it as it threw itself across the room towards Harvey's back. He aimed his phaser and fired.

The beam hit the Shade in the back and it became visible again with a harsh metallic cry. Harvey swung around, tommy gun raised, and Linkara had the magic gun aimed and cocked in a moment. Both fired, bullets and magic joining the phaser burst.

The Shade exploded in a cloud of sparks and fell. It didn't move again.

Harvey prodded the remains with his foot.

"Where the hell did that thing come from?"

Linkara holstered the magic gun and pocketed his sonic screwdriver.

"Always here, cloaked. That's new. Not good."

A scrabbling from behind them. 90s Kid whirled around and aimed his phaser at the hole in the floor, but it wasn't a Shade that climbed out. It was the Ninja-Style Dancer.

_An army of Shades just arrived. I barely escaped. What should we do now?_

They were trapped.


	18. C-C-C-Combat

"Dammit."

Linkara grabbed the transmission spike out of the computer and snapped it in half.

"Traced us. The Shade and _this_ thing. _Dammit_."

"Kid, it's gonna get ugly out there. You ready?"

Linkara nodded. 90s Kid gripped his phaser tight. He was gonna be fine. It was gonna be just like Bloodgun. They were gonna go out there and shoot a bunch of robots and be totally bad-ass. It was gonna be awesome.

... nope, this was gonna suck.

Harvey peered through the glass in the door, then pushed it open.

"We're moving out. Watch my six."

The corridors of the building were dark, lit only by the green lights on the wall. There could have been Shades everywhere in there and they never would have known.

But there weren't. The building was empty.

It gave 90s Kid the creeps.

It was gonna be okay. It was like playing a really big game of Doom. It was gonna be okay.

The corridors ended at a set of double doors that led out to the city beyond and the Shades that were waiting for them. Harvey rested a hand on the door.

"You ready, kid?"

Linkara nodded. The Ninja-Style Dancer inclined his head once. 90s Kid swallowed hard. It was gonna be like Doom. He was gonna kick ass. It was gonna be awesome.

Harvey gave the doors a shove and they swung open to reveal a sea of black figures surrounding the building.

There was a brief moment of stillness and solitude.

Then mayhem.

The Shades surged forwards.

The air was thick with bullets, magic gun shot, phaser blasts and sparks from falling Shades. The Ninja-Style Dancer darted between them, dancing to music that 90s Kid couldn't hear, dodging claws here and punching Shades there. The blows did little damage, but they distracted and disorientated and that gave 90s Kid or Linkara or Harvey a chance to shoot them while their attention was elsewhere.

They were a four-man wrecking crew.

But for every one that fell, two more took their place.

Linkara dodged a swing from a Shade and made a slicing gesture across his throat. 90s Kid didn't get, but Harvey did.

"We gotta split! Shake a leg!"

The Ninja-Style Dancer threw something on the ground and disappeared in a puff of smoke. The Shades surrounding the spot where he'd been shrieked in fury, but he was gone.

It would've been nice if he'd shared those things, though. 90s Kid had no idea how the rest of them were going to get out of there.

He shot another Shade right in the... what would be its face.

"Whadda we do now?"

"Follow the kid!"

Linkara was cutting a swathe through the surrounding Shades with his magic gun. Moving outwards. Always moving outwards. They were filling up the gap behind him, surrounding him, but slowly, he was reaching the edge of the crowd.

90s Kid followed suit, pushing through the sparks that stung against his face and dodging the robotic hands that tried to grab his shirt and drag him away. To his left, Harvey switched to throwing punches, but the Shades were beginning to overwhelm.

90s Kid ducked under the last Shade. He was in the open. He turned back.

"Harvey! Catch!"

He threw the phaser as hard as he could and it arced through the air and right down to Harvey's hand. He started blasting the Shades that were trying to pull him down and soon he was free too.

The Shades turned. 90s Kid was unarmed. He looked at the others.

"Now what?"

Harvey stared at him like he'd just sprouted a second head.

"Run, you idiot!"

They ran. And the Shades gave chase.


	19. Getaway

Running – down the streets, through alleys, around abandoned cars, lungs burning, visible and invisible legs aching, with a horde of evil robots in hot pursuit.

Really, it wasn't a good day.

The Shades were fast, but their numbers meant that they crashed into each other, got in each other's way, slowed each other down. Alleys were a bottle neck. Cars were a serious obstacle. They were falling behind.

Not that that was particularly reassuring.

90s Kid had no idea where they were going, but he didn't much care. He was just following Linkara and hoping that he had a plan before they all got dragged off and killed or whatever.

And fortunately, it seemed like he did.

They were about four blocks away from the Shade building when Linkara made a sharp right turn into a burn-out building. 90s Kid stumbled to a halt and followed, Harvey following behind. The first floor was mostly intact, as were the steps to the basement, and Linkara vanished down them before 90s Kid could blink. He and Harvey followed.

It was dark down there, dark and damp, and running and hiding was totally not hardcore, but there was no way 90s Kid was going to go back out there until the Shades were gone.

And it was quiet. So quiet that even Linkara's weak voice seemed too loud down there.

"Coulda gone better."

"No duh. How long until those losers are gone?"

"Don't know. Check in fifteen minutes."

The last time fifteen minutes had felt this long, it was the last fifteen minutes before 90s Kid's favourite comic book shop opened so he could pick up the Youngblood trade he'd ordered. Except that that was a totally awesome and radical kind of waiting and this was the terrified you were gonna be caught and dragged off by robots kind and that sucked big time.

But at long last, Linkara whispered, "Time's up."

Upstairs and outside, the streets were empty. The Shades had missed them and moved on. They were safe.

Well. As safe as it was possible to be in a city filled with evil robots under the command of an android duplicate of Linkara and an inter-dimensional conqueror with a V fetish.

Even so, the journey back to the base was painfully slow. Even slower than the journey out to the Shade building. Pausing at every corner, checking twice and then again to make sure they weren't being followed, ducking into abandoned buildings every five minutes. And 90s Kid didn't even have a weapon now, so if they got attacked, he'd be screwed.

But there was no-one there. Maybe the Shades had been recalled, or maybe they'd all gone to search another area of the town, or maybe they'd just given up, but whatever the reason, they were nowhere to be seen.

It seemed too easy. Maybe it was. But 90s Kid had all but seen Harvey die, got thrown into an alternate universe, found out that he was fading from reality, and been ignored, told to shut up and nearly kidnapped and torn apart by an army of robots in less than twenty-four hours. It was starting to get a bit much to deal with.

The Ninja-Style Dancer re-joined them about a block away from the base. Nobody bothered to ask where he'd gone. It was a ninja thing.

And it was only when they were all back sat around the table in mission control that 90s Kid noticed that his right leg wasn't the only one missing. His left leg had started to fade too. Everything between hip and ankle was gone and he could almost see it spreading across his left foot.

He was running out of time. Fast.


	20. You Had One Job, Linkara

"ONE JOB! YOU HAD ONE JOB!"

Linkara looked down at the broken transmission spike in his hands.

"Traced us with it..."

"YOU COULD HAVE TURNED IT OFF INSTEAD OF BREAKING IT!"

"... oops."

"ONE JOB!"

"Sorry?"

Pollo just stared at him, apparently lost for words. At any other time, 90s Kid would've probably found it funny, but his magical disappearing limbs kinda ruined the humour for him. It was just wasting time. Time he didn't have.

Harvey cleared his throat.

"So. What's our next move?"

"LINKARA MANAGED TO SEND SOME USEFUL INFORMATION BEFORE HE BROKE THE TRANSMITTER LIKE AN IDIOT."

"Sorry..."

Pollo ignored him.

"WITH IT, WE CAN PINPOINT THE LOCATION OF THEIR MAIN BASE AND FIND MECHAKARA."

90s Kid sat up straighter in his chair. All of sudden, the conversation just got interesting.

Harvey frowned.

"And we want to do that why?"

"Help 90s Kid."

" _Why_?"

"FROM WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT THE MISSION, IF IT WEREN'T FOR 90S KID, YOU WOULD NEVER HAVE SEEN THE CLOAKED SHADE IN THE ROOM WITH YOU."

"Yeah, that was totally me."

"And the phaser," Linkara added.

"Yeah! You'd've been, like, screwed without me, dude."

"I guess he did help." Harvey sighed. "Fine, fine, we'll help the idiot not disappear. What's the plan, kid?"

Linkara pointed to the Ninja-Style Dancer and himself.

"Distraction."

Then 90s Kid and Harvey.

"Sneak in. Work out the loophole. Save the day."

"... this is the best plan we have?"

Linkara nodded. Harvey buried his face in his hands.

"Greaaaat. Just _peachy_. When do we leave?"

"IT WILL TAKE TIME TO WORK OUT THE EXACT CO-ORDINATES OF MECHAKARA'S BASE. I SUGGEST YOU ALL GET SOME SLEEP WHILE I WORK AND I WILL WAKE YOU WHEN I HAVE THE ANSWER."

Linkara nodded.

"Thanks, Pollo."

"AND NEXT TIME, DON'T GO BREAKING ALL THE EQUIPMENT I GIVE YOU FOR STUPID REASONS."

"Sorry!"

There were three other rooms on the first floor: one was a bathroom, thankfully still with running water; another was a kitchen; and the third was full of a variety of mismatched mattresses and sleeping bags. 90s Kid couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. Waking up on the couch at Mark's house seemed a lifetime ago.

Hell, he'd signed the deal with Tristem in October in his world and it was like, February here. He'd travelled through time as well as dimensions. It was enough to make anyone tired.

If he had any dreams, he didn't remember them. One moment, he had taken off his baseball cap and was lying down on a mattress and closing his eyes; the next, Linkara was shaking him awake and it felt like he'd hardly been asleep at all.

Either he was more tired than he thought or it was another one of those bits of magical hyper-time crap.

"Duuuuuude, did Pollo find out where Mechakara is already?"

Linkara smiled and nodded. 90s Kid sat up and looked around, but Harvey was already in the other room and it was just them. He grabbed his baseball cap.

"That is totally awesome, man! Where do we gotta go?"

"Next town over."

"Dude, let's go!"

Standing up was weird. Like, he could feel his legs, and he knew they were there, and he could just about see them, but at the same time, he kinda looked like a floating torso, head and arms and it was messed up. It kinda made him feel dizzy.

Linkara put a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll fix it. I promise."

"Yeah. I hope so, dude."

They walked into the control room together. And neither of them noticed that 90s Kid's left hand had faded from fingertip to wrist.


	21. Road Trip

It didn't take long for them to get ready to leave. A bite to eat, a quick bathroom break and a word with Pollo were all they needed before heading out.

"You stay," Linkara said. "In charge. If we're caught, take over, call Liz."

"UNDERSTOOD."

That made 90s Kid pause. Where was Iron Liz? He asked as they waited at the door while Harvey checked that the coast was clear. Linkara grinned.

"Recruitment. Police and army."

"Guns?"

"Big guns."

"Hardcore, man."

There wasn't time to walk to the next town over, but with all the abandoned cars around, that wasn't an issue. Sure, most of the cars were junk or burnt, but not all of them. And many of the ones that were abandoned when the Shades hit the city still had the keys in the ignition. Most spluttered and died straight away or did nothing, the gas gone or the electrics flat, but after trying about eight or so, they found a pretty nice red sports car that started and probably had enough fuel to get them where they needed to go.

It must have looked like the weirdest road trip ever. A one-eyed dude in a fedora hat in the driver's seat, a suited lounge singer riding shotgun, and 90s Kid and a ninja sitting in the back. Still. At least they had a sweet-ass ride.

The journey was quiet. Linkara was concentrating on driving – depth perception had to be hard with just one eye – while Harvey brooded, and the Ninja-Style Dancer was meditating or something. 90s Kid had nothing to occupy himself with but the way his limbs were vanishing before his eyes.

His left arm was gone up to the elbow now. He could hold his hand up right in front of his nose and see everything on the other side with ease. It was a bit hazy, like looking through a window that was lightly misted over, but that didn't matter. He shouldn't be able to see anything but skin and flesh and _hand_.

But he was still solid. He could touch things. He could rest his palm against the car window and feel the glass against his skin and he didn't pass through like a ghost. He was still real.

For now.

As they got closer, it was hard to miss that this town belonged to Mechakara and Vyce. Half the buildings looked like the Shade towers, all black metal and green lights and giant V shapes, like the inter-dimensional asshole needed to sign his name all over everything. And the nearer they got to the centre of town, the more frequent the Shade buildings got and the closer they were together.

But if those buildings looked like space ships standing on end, they were nothing compared with what had happened to the mall. That looked like a space _station_ had crash-landed and settled there.

"So, like, is that the base?"

Harvey turned around his seat to give him a look.

"Whadda _you_ think, genius?"

"Chill out, dude, I was just asking."

Linkara drove them into the mall's parking lot, stopped in between two abandoned cars and glanced at the rest of the people in the car.

"Remember where we parked."

He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out. The rest followed, 90s Kid slamming the door behind him with his invisible hand just to make sure that it was still there and interacting with the world. The bang made Harvey wince.

"Shut up, ya numbskull. You want 'em to hear you?"

"Like, sorry, dude."

"Idiot. So you and him got a plan, kid?"

Harvey jerked his head towards the Ninja-Style Dancer, who responded with a card: _We have it covered. Have fun._

"Fun. Yeah. Right. Good luck."


	22. Knock, Knock

Linkara and the Ninja-Style Dancer were soon out of sight, lost to the cars, the broken buildings, the Shade towers and the distance. Harvey drew his reloaded tommy gun; 90s Kid drew his phaser.

"You ready, dude?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Dodging between cars was almost awesome. It was like ducking behind cover in, like, Duke Nukem 3D or something. He could pretend it was a video game and it was safe. He and Harvey hunkered down behind the battered remains of a jeep within spitting distance of the main doors.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait."

They didn't have to wait long. There was a sound that, although distant, sound distinctly like an explosion, and the response was like a kicked ant pile. The doors slid open starship-style and black shapes swarmed out like a cloud of flightless locusts. Even more than the last place.

Surely Vyce couldn't have brought so many of the things along in one spaceship. They had to be building them here. Maybe in this very city.

There were too many to count.

The torrent of Shades began to slow to a trickle then stopped. Harvey stood up and made a dash across the parking lot, pressing himself against the wall. He beckoned to 90s Kid. It was the most impatient beckon he'd seen since that one time he'd been two hours late home from school because he got distracted at the comic book store and his mom had seen him through the window and beckoned for him to come in to get yelled at.

90s Kid checked left, then right, then ran to join Harvey, low to the ground. Somewhere, there was an awesome theme tune playing. He didn't know what, exactly, but it was something badass and dramatic.

It was kinda ruined by Harvey rolling his eyes and sighing, though

"You are such a bummer, dude."

Harvey didn't reply.

"So how are we gonna get in?"

"Like this."

Harvey held out a hand, and rapped on the metal of the door three times with his knuckles.

"Dude, there is like no way that that is ever gonna work."

The door slid open. A Shade's head leant out. Harvey slammed the butt of his tommy gun into the spot where the head met the neck and sparks flew and it shrieked in anger. 90s Kid fired his phaser directly into its face to get it to shut up but missed and hit it in the neck instead. Its head popped off and rolled across the asphalt and its body crumpled.

The door was still open. Harvey stuck his foot in it before it closed and flashed 90s Kid a smug smile.

"... that was the most _metal_ thing _eveeeeeer_."

"Pipe down, ya idiot."

He looked pleased, though.

There were no other Shades waiting just inside the door. Instead, the main thoroughfare of the mall that they walked into was deserted. All the shop signs had been torn down and the windows blacked out with metal so it looked more like the inside of a ship. And the map kiosks had been torn down and replaced with computer banks.

Pity. A map would've been handy.

"Where do we start?"

Harvey shrugged, then froze.

There were footsteps, metal boots on a metal floor, echoing across the empty space. Somebody patrolling. Or rather, something.

90s Kid looked at Harvey. Harvey looked back. They ran for the nearest door.

Inside was a shop that could've been anything from an Ann Taylor to a Yankee Candle store. It was impossible to tell with all the merchandise stripped out and the way the place smelled of nothing but oil and metal.

The footsteps were getting louder. Getting closer. Aiming for their hiding place.

Had it seen them?

Didn't matter. It was going to see them if they didn't move.

They made a break for the back of the store and the door to the staff-only areas. It should've been locked, but the keypad had been snapped off and the door swung open easily. Harvey shut the door behind them, but when they turned around, there was no way out. The only other door was to a maintenance closet.

They were trapped.


	23. Stuck in the Closet

If Mark were here, he'd be making so many dumb jokes about 90s Kid being in the closet. Or he would've done, back in the 90s. Now he didn't seem that interested. But still. 90s Kid could imagine it. And it was annoying.

It was a pretty big maintenance closet, but a lot of the space was taken up by a bunch of mops and a vacuum cleaner, so it still felt far more cramped than 90s Kid would've liked. And once again, it was dark. He was spending more time in small dark spaces than the average mole.

The Shade was coming closer. Its footsteps stopped by the door. Metal fingers on the handle. And then –

Another set of footsteps. Another Shade. It made a grating metallic sound, like the shrieks but softer, more conversational, and the Shade by the door responded in kind and backed off. A door closed – the door back into the shop – but there were no footsteps moving off. They were waiting just beyond the door.

It looked like they were stuck there until they left.

Stuck in the closet with a version of Harvey Finevoice that seemed to hate him on pain of evil robot death.

This was the worst day he'd ever had.

"So, uh... how's your day been?"

"Are you always this irritating?"

"Aw come on, I'm just trying to make conversation! What is your _deal_ , Finevoice?"

"I don't have a deal. Shut up."

"You totally do! You're so freaking uptight all the time."

"I said zip it."

"Like, I've done nothing wrong but every time I say anything, you're an asshole about it."

Harvey didn't reply.

"What did I do to make you hate me, dude?"

"You died, alright?!" Harvey snapped. Almost shouted. "You died!"

"... what?"

"Do you know what it did to the kid? Do you know how bad it affected him? He got his eye torn out 'cos of you! And even after it healed, he couldn't do the show for two damn _months_ because of you! Because even _looking_ at a comic book reminded him of you!"

"Dude, I–"

"And then when Silent Hill came around, you had to come back and blame him, didn't you? Had to twist the truth so the kid almost offed himself with a bullet to the head 'cause he felt so bad! And then you tried to kill himself yourself and now listen to him!"

"Harvey, I–"

"And then you gotta come waltzing back in to his life with a new name and a new outfit, calling yourself 90s Kid and sending us out on a wild goose chase that is gonna get us all killed and for _what_? To fix _your_ world? To send _you_ back home? What about us? What about _him_?"

Harvey stopped, out of breath. 90s Kid could all but feel him shaking with anger across the space between them.

"Dude... I didn't know."

Harvey sighed.

"Of course you didn't. You're not Knight Kid. But... I watched the kid nearly fall apart. I can't do that again. I just... can't."

90s Kid stared at his feet. Or rather, where his feet would have been if it weren't dark and they weren't invisible.

"I'm... I'm sorry, dude. This is all my fault. But... I wanna fix it, you know? And I can't do that by myself. I need you guys."

"But what happens to us when you're gone?"

"I don't know."

"Exactly."

"I just... I just wanna stop screwing things up, you know? I wanna make things better."

"Yeah. I know."

90s Kid didn't reply. There wasn't really anything he could say. Harvey sighed.

"So, uh. You like stuff from the 90s, right?"

"Duh."

"... you like Pokémon?"


	24. In Disguise

"And that is why Jolteon is the most hardcore and radical Pokémon _eveeeeeer_."

"No way. The best Pokémon's obviously–"

"ATTENTION ALL BIOLOGICAL LIFE-FORMS. YOUR BETTER IS SPEAKING."

It was a voice projected so loud that 90s Kid could feel it vibrating in his chest, loud enough for everyone in the building to hear it, the whole state to hear it, the whole _country_. It was a voice that made his blood run cold. Metallic and inhuman, but with an edge of Linkara to it.

Mechakara.

"IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT YOUR... _CHAMPION_ LINKARA IS NOW IN MY HANDS. LET THIS BE A LESSON TO ALL WHO WOULD OPPOSE US. YOU WILL FALL."

"The kid. _Dammit_."

"We gotta go save him!"

"Damn straight. Let's get out of here."

They crept out of the closet (90s Kid could practically hear Mark laughing at him) and up to the door back into the shop outside. Harvey pressed his ear to the metal-covered wood then shrugged. Nothing to hear. Nothing to see. They were either about to make the rescue of the century or blunder straight into a trap and get shot in the face.

Slowly, Harvey pushed the door open.

The two Shades were still standing in the former shop, but their backs were to the door and they didn't react to it moving. Harvey held up three fingers. Two. One.

They burst through the door, firing bullets and phaser blasts. The Shades had no time to react. Sparks flew and the robots crumpled and stopped moving.

Harvey lowered his tommy gun with a grin.

"These things ain't so tough when you take 'em by surprise. Weaker'n the ones Vyce brought with him, anyway. They're making them on the cheap. Bad construction."

"Cha, but there are like hundreds of those things out there. How're we gonna get to Linkara without getting caught?"

Harvey looked pointedly down at the Shades, then back up to 90s Kid.

"... oh no way, dude."

"You wanna save the kid or not?"

"This is totally un-radical."

It didn't take long to disentangle the metal from the robes the Shades wore. Trying to hide 90s Kid's baseball cap was tricky, but the only time he took it off was to sleep and was not budging on that. His hat was, like, _part_ of him. It wasn't coming off.

They managed to hide it. Eventually.

The main body of the mall was swarming with Shades. Most of them seemed to be making their way towards where the food court once was.

Seemed like as good a place as any to start searching.

They joined the stream, mingling with the others. They looked fairly convincing, 90s Kid thought, except for the fact that his feet were missing and Harvey was clearly wearing shoes. But as long as nobody looked down, they'd be fine.

Hopefully Shades didn't look down too often.

The food court had been converted into a prison block. Each restaurant had three or four cells in it, and maybe half of them were full with terrified, desperate people, two to a cell, huddled in corners.

The exception were a pair in one of the cells in a restaurant that might have been an Arby's before. The Ninja-Style Dancer was sitting cross-legged in the middle of cell, meditating or something, and Linkara was knelt by the door, sonic screwdriver in hand, trying to break his way out.

It wasn't going well. Whatever the lock was made from, the sonic screwdriver wasn't doing a thing. Either it had an anti-magic field around it or there was something wooden involved.

Probably anti-magic. You didn't get a lot of electronic locks made of wood.

So they were here, and they'd found Linkara.

... now what?


	25. Shades Don't Do Fire Drills

"Like, now what?" 90s Kid murmured.

"I'm thinking about it."

90s Kid and Harvey had lurked their way into a corner without being noticed. 90s Kid was pretending to inspect part of a wall while Harvey glanced back and forth, keeping watch.

"We can't fight our way out of here."

"I know that."

"There's, like, too many of them."

"I know."

"And we can't break Linkara out without them seeing it."

" _I know_ , okay? Just shut up and let me think."

90s Kid shut up. It was the least he could do, really. After all, he did get them all into this mess in the first place, didn't he? He went back to examining the wall. It looked like all the other walls – black and green, metal and lights, all space-y and cool.

Except for one thing.

A red box with a white T-shaped lever.

Oh _yes_.

"Hey, Harvey?"

"I told ya, I'm thinking about it."

"I've got an idea."

Harvey turned around very slowly. 90s Kid could feel the disbelief without even seeing his eyes.

"Is it as good as selling your memories to Satan to raise the dead?"

"Dude, he's not Satan, and I was thinking about _that_."

"... oh. Right. That's... not a bad idea."

90s Kid grabbed the handle on the fire alarm box and pulled.

The siren was louder than he'd thought. Maybe the metal over everything was making it louder somehow. It didn't matter, though. Every Shade's head snapped up and all but two of them headed towards the rest of the building.

Not in a calm, orderly fashion, either. Didn't look like Mechakara did a lot of fire drills for his evil robots.

... that was one of the weirdest thoughts he'd ever had.

The two Shades approached them and made a metallic sound that seemed almost questioning. You didn't need to be a genius to figure out that it was something like, "What are you two still doing here?"

Harvey's response was simple and elegant.

He punched it in the face.

Okay, it didn't seem to do much beyond make him hiss with pain and clutch his fist, but it was certainly unexpected for the Shades. The punched one staggered back and its partner roared with anger.

90s Kid filled them both with phaser blasts until they were nothing but piles of sparking junk.

The Ninja-Style Dancer was still meditating. Linkara hadn't even looked up from the lock. Talk about missing out on an awesome fight scene and them being totally hardcore.

"Hey! Kid!"

"Harvey?" Linkara jumped to his feet. "Harvey!"

"Who'd ya expect, the Ghoul of Christmas Future or something?"

"Progress?"

"Not much."

"Uh, we kinda got caught up in a thing, you know? But like, we're here to rescue you!"

Shooting locks always worked in video games, so 90s Kid gave it a try on the cell door. The keypad all but exploded, the latch clicked, and the door swung open. The Ninja-Style Dancer stood up and joined them.

The four together again.

"So like, what did you guys do, anyway?"

The Ninja-Style Dancer held up his cards: _We carved "AT4W" onto a nearby building in giant letters with a phaser. It seemed like a good idea at the time._

Linkara shrugged.

"Worked, didn't it?"

"Cha, totally! It went, like, pow- _bam_ –KABOOM! But how'd you get caught?"

_The streets were unfamiliar. We were cornered and outnumbered._

"Bummer."

Harvey was stripping the cloaks off the fallen Shades.

"Better suit up, kid. We got work to do. You still got your magic piece?"

Linkara's mouth hardened into a grim line. He shook his head slowly.

"Then who does?"

"Mechakara."


	26. The Evil in Abercrombie & Fitch

In between leaving 90s Kid and Harvey in the parking lot and carving Minnesota's largest piece of graffiti, Linkara had been in touch with Pollo. The little blue robot had analysed the information they'd transmitted from the Shade tower and pinpointed the location of the base's command centre down to the shop it used to be.

There was something strangely right about the heart of evil lurking in Abercrombie & Fitch. It seemed to work.

That was where Mechakara was hiding. That was where he had Linkara's magic gun.

It was harder to creep about the base in disguise when there were four of them. Two Shades palling up? Little bit weird. Four Shades huddled up together? Suspicious. More than a few heads turned, and every time they did, 90s Kid was sure that they'd raise the alarm.

But they never did. Not even when the fire alarm was shut off and the level of activity in the base started to settle down. They didn't even seem concerned that there'd been a prison break and their two most high-profile captives were missing.

It didn't feel right.

But... things were going their way at last. They were getting closer to Mechakara. They were getting closer to fixing things and saving him and sending him home again.

So he didn't say a word.

The inner sanctum wasn't even guarded, although the door was locked, but very few locked doors are a problem when one of your party has a sonic screwdriver. The light on the keypad changed from red to green. They were in.

The door slid open and Linkara peered inside then gave the thumbs up.

The command centre was full of computers and monitors but was otherwise deserted. The magic gun lay across a keyboard. Unguarded. Undefended. Alone.

It was too easy.

90s Kid let his gaze drift around the room. It caught movement. Four faint outlines.

An ambush.

Before he could say anything, the cloaked Shades reappeared and pounced on them. One hit 90s Kid and knocked him to the ground, its knee digging into the small of his back and its hands pulling his arms painfully behind him. He couldn't see the others, but he could tell by the cries and hisses of pain that they weren't doing much better.

"YOU SURPRISED ME. I DIDN'T THINK YOU COULD GET ANY MORE STUPID IF YOU TRIED."

90s Kid tried to look up at Mechakara, but his neck didn't bend that way. All he could do was stare at the floor and listen.

"Big talk, tin can. Why don't you let me go so we can talk nice with my tommy gun in your face, eh?"

Harvey gasped with pain. The Shade must've done something, although 90s Kid couldn't see what. Linkara's voice sounded tighter than usual. Worried.

"Harvey. Stop."

"A WISE PROPOSITION."

"Shut up. How'd you know?"

"HOW DID I KNOW YOU WERE COMING?" Mechakara laughed. "DID YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD FORGET THAT THERE WERE FOUR OF YOU? THE SHADE TOWER YOU INVADED SENT US ALL THE INFORMATION WE COULD NEED."

"What if not all here?"

"BUT WE KNEW YOU HAD. THE MOMENT THE FIRE ALARM WENT OFF, WE KNEW. AND WE LET YOU COME HERE. WE WATCHED YOU EVERY STEP OF THE WAY AND CLEARED YOUR PATH FROM THERE TO HERE. AND NOW YOU'RE MINE."

"Why not kill us?" Linkara snarled.

"I SHALL. BUT NOT YET. IN THE MORNING, YOUR PEOPLE WILL WATCH YOU DIE AND KNOW THAT THEIR _HERO_ IS NOTHING. TAKE THEM BACK TO THE HOLDING CELLS."

90s Kid pulled at the hands holding him, but they wouldn't budge. Around, he could feel the motions of the others doing the same, trying to break free and failing. But then the Shade holding him released a jolt of electricity that seared through his body.

Everything went black.


	27. Shadowkid

Ow.

That was the word of the moment. Everything hurt. It was worse than that night Mark's couch broke and 90s Kid had ended up sleeping on the floor instead.

Mind you, he _was_ lying on the floor as well. That probably wasn't helping.

He opened his eyes and sat up to see the inside of a cell with transparent walls that might have once been a McDonalds, judging by the faint arch impressions on some of the solid walls. In with him was Harvey, sitting in the corner, and in the cell next to them, Linkara was pacing back and forth while the Ninja-Style Dancer meditated again.

So they were all prisoners now. Just _great_.

He stood up. They'd taken their disguises while they were unconscious and without the Shade robe, it was obvious that he was still disappearing and fast. Everything from the waist down was a faint blur as well as both arms, and the fading was visibly creeping up his chest and towards his neck.

So much for six freaking hours.

"So like, how screwed are we?"

"Pretty screwed. They took the kid's sonic screwdriver."

"Wasn't working anyway," Linkara added, voice even harder to catch, muffled by the walls.

"And we get to die in the morning."

No. There had to be something they could do. _Anything_.

90s Kid walked up to the door, looked around the edges for something – a weak hinge, a cracked panel, anything that would let them get out. Behind him, Harvey pulled a cigarette out of his jacket and stuck it between his teeth without lighting it.

"You're wasting your time."

He was. There was nothing. _Nothing_.

"This is all my fault," he whispered.

"What?"

"I said this is all my goddamn fault."

"Quit beating yourself up about it. You did your best. We all did."

"But I knew, dude. I knew there was something weird with the Shades and I didn't say anything."

"You weren't to know. It's okay"

"No, it's not. You were right before."

"When?"

"When you said that I was gonna get you all killed."

"We're not dead yet. It's okay."

"No it's not! I screwed it all up in my universe and now I'm screwing up your universe too!"

He couldn't find the words any more. Fear and frustration mingled and boiled over.

"Just... just... _dammit_!"

He swung the side of his fist at the door for emphasis, but the hit never connected. Instead his hand passed straight through the metal and out the other side along with his arm up to the elbow. 90s Kid stared at it. Wiggled his fingers.

They still seemed to work.

"What the – duuuuuude, that is _messed up_."

Harvey sat up and took his cigarette out of his mouth.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Like, I have no clue, man."

He pulled his arm back inside. Pressed against the door again with his fingertips. They slid straight through.

Harvey pocketed his cigarette again, face lighting up.

"Think you could do that with the lock?"

"Uh, I can try."

90s Kid withdrew his hand and pushed at the wall behind the keypad. His fingers slipped through. It felt like pins and needles, a strangle tingling sensation. If he'd been solid, it probably would have been electrocution. Then again, if he'd been solid, he wouldn't have been able to get his hand there in the first place.

He twisted his fingers around to see what would happen. The lock sparked and beeped, then died. The door swung open.

90s Kid looked down at his fingers. He could hardly see even an outline of them any more. They'd gone from faded comic book to looking like they were made out of water, barely a shimmer in the air. He was losing the ability to be solid.

They were free all right, but 90s Kid was almost out of time.


	28. Freedom! ... Now What?

There were two Shades guarding the cells. Apparently, ghostly fingers screwing up the electrics didn't trigger any alarms, so neither of them had turned around. That didn't mean everything was fine, though. For a start, weapons. Namely, neither 90s Kid nor Harvey had one. The tommy gun and the phaser were both gone, and of course they'd never managed to grab Linkara's magic gun.

Then again, would he be able to pick anything up in the first place? If his hands were passing through walls without a problem, they'd probably pass through a phaser just as easily.

It was almost like making a deal with a demon only led to _bad_ stuff or something.

Although... come to think about it, wasn't this the same power that Slyder had in "Doom's IV"? Dude, it'd be totally awesome if it weren't for that whole vanishing from existence thing. That kinda sucked. But maybe he could, like... break the Shades by screwing with their minds like he did with the locks?

It was worth a try.

The Shades weren't very observant. Maybe it was the robes, or maybe they just weren't expecting to be jumped. Either way, neither noticed a thing until he was right behind them swinging a punch at one of their heads.

His hand went straight through and out the other side. He felt the same electric tingle as from the lock. The Shade's body stiffened and twitched until he pulled his arm back and it collapsed in a smoking heap. The other Shade tried to grab him by the throat, but he ducked and shoved his hand through its head too. It joined its companion on the floor.

90s Kid looked up at the rest of them and grinned. He still didn't have a huge gun, but punching robots through the head was still pretty freaking sweet.

A few seconds later, he'd worked his magic on the door to Linkara and the Ninja-Style Dancer's cell too. All four of them were free, but three of them were unarmed.

You win some, you lose some.

"Hey kid," Harvey said. "I don't wanna worry you or nothing, but I ain't got no weapons."

"Ninja-Style Dancer?"

In less time than it took to blink, there was a phaser in the Ninja-Style Dancer's hand. Harvey stared.

"How did you–"

_It's a ninja thing. Don't ask._

"... okay, then..."

Harvey took the phaser. Linkara started for the door.

"Kid, where are you going?"

"Magic gun."

"Hold your horses. You already got caught twice. Let's not make it a third."

"But–"

"Harvey's right, dude. You coulda got killed here."

"And they need you out there," Harvey said softly. "Those people are counting on _you_. We can't lose you."

"Other reviewers."

"They ain't in Minnesota and they've got enough on their plates."

"The gun?"

"I'll bring back your magic piece. You get outta here with him."

The Ninja-Style Dancer bowed, which might have meant he agreed. 90s Kid wasn't really sure. It was hard to tell with ninjas.

"Harvey, I _can't_ , I–" He sighed. "Fine. _Fine_. Stay safe, Harvey."

"Will do."

The Ninja-Style Dancer held up a card: _We shall be waiting for you outside in half an hour_. Then he stood next to Linkara and threw a smoke bomb at their feet. The cloud enveloped the pair of them, and by the time it had faded away, they were gone.

"Like, how _does_ he _do_ that?"

Harvey shrugged.

"Beats me. You ready to go kick some ass?"

"Duuuuuude, am I _ever_!"

Behind them, somebody laughed.

"Bloodthirsty creatures, aren't you? And they say that demons are bad..."

90s Kid didn't even have to turn around. He knew who it was.

It was Tristem.


	29. Big Damn Heroes

Harvey and 90s Kid turned around.

Tristem was leaning against the wall behind them, arms folded, sunglasses on. He looked at 90s Kid and sighed.

"Less than half the person you once were, aren't you?"

Harvey pointed his phaser at the demon's face.

"You said he'd have six hours!"

Tristem sighed again.

"My wit is wasted on you. Do point that thing somewhere else, Mr Finevoice. And I _did_ say probably less than that. How could I have known he would fade so quickly?"

"So how much time do I have?"

Tristem circled him a few times, staring at him closely, watching the way the fade had crept to nearly above his shoulders. He prodded his upper arm.

"Still solid to me and my magic. Interesting. I'd say you have... ten minutes, perhaps? How unfortunate."

"Dude, _seriously_?"

Tristem shrugged.

"What can I say? Magic works in mysterious ways."

Ten minutes. Ten minutes until he was just... gone. Not dead, but never existed.

Harvey switched the phaser onto the highest setting.

"Let's go, then. We got time."

At least one of them was confident. Or sounded it, at least.

There was a time and a place for subtlety, subterfuge and sneaking around in disguises, and this was not it. This was the time for a hardcore, radical, Doom-and-Duke-Nukem-style rampage.

They ran through the corridors, Harvey taking down enemies from a distance with the phaser, 90s Kid scrambling the circuits of any that got too close, both of them trying to ignore that Tristem was following them with a smug smirk on his face. They reached Mechakara's inner sanctum without a scratch. 90s Kid twisted his fingers inside the keypad: it sparked and died and the door slid open.

Mechakara was standing across from the door, holding the magic gun in his hands, examining it. He swung around when he heard the door.

"HOW DID YOU –" He stopped. Scowled. "IT DOESN'T MATTER. YOU CAN BOTH DIE HERE INSTEAD."

90s Kid tried to think up a badass one-liner. Nothing came to mind.

"Aw screw you, rust bucket!"

Crossing the room only took a few steps. Not enough time for Mechakara to raise the gun and fire before 90s Kid threw a punch at his stupid robot head.

The impact shot up his arm like a lightning bolt of pure pain and it felt like every single one of his knuckles had shattered.

" _Ow_!"

It didn't make sense. None of the Shades were solid to him.

Mechakara's fingers wrapped around his throat, lifted him up and threw him aside. He landed hard on the floor, the air rushing out of his lungs to leave him gasping like a fish.

He hadn't done any damage. But he had provided a distraction. Harvey had ducked behind a chair in the opposite corner and his phaser was aimed at the robot's head.

"Hey tin can!"

Mechakara looked up and a full-powered phaser burst hit him square in the face. He cried out in pain and the room filled with a smell somewhere between burning plastic and sizzling meat. Harvey fired again, but a green shield nexus lit up across the robot's chest and the second shot did nothing.

But the first shot...

It had burned away a chunk of the (real? synthetic?) skin covering Mechakara's face, revealing the gleaming metal underneath.

There was a hiss of surprise from the doorway. 90s Kid had almost forgotten that Tristem was still with them, and there he was, arms folded and glowing green eyes narrowed.

"So you're an android? Strange that you never mentioned that at our meeting, _Link_." He paused for a moment and glanced at 90s Kid and Harvey's dumbfounded expressions. "Oh, didn't I mention that he and I made a deal?"

"DIDN'T YOU WONDER WHY I WASN'T SURPRISED BY THE IDIOT? I REMEMBER BOTH TIMELINES. HIS _AND_ THIS."

He aimed the magic gun at 90s Kid and cocked it.

"AND NOW I'M GOING TO DESTROY YOU AND THAT WORLD _FOREVER_."

90s Kid closed his eyes. He didn't know what getting hit by the magic gun would feel like, but he hoped it wouldn't hurt.

He didn't want to die.

He didn't.

Mechakara pulled the trigger.


	30. Déjà Vu

Nothing happened.

" _WHAT_?"

90s Kid opened his eyes again. Mechakara was pulling the trigger again and again, but nothing was happening. The gun wouldn't fire.

"HOW COULD IT NOT RECOGNISE ME?"

Tristem arched an eyebrow.

"Recognise you?"

"I WEAR HIS SKIN. I HAVE HIS AURA. MAGIC OBJECTS RECOGNISE THEIR OWNERS –"

"And I thought you sold your memories of magic to me." Tristem's voice was ice cold and furious. "You broke our deal, android. You _lied_ to me."

"AND WHAT WILL YOU DO? TAKE BACK YOUR BOON?"

"Not without undoing the deal of another."

"WHO?"

Realisation hit 90s Kid like a bucket of cold water to the face. Him. It was his deal that was stopping Tristem from reversing things.

He tried to get to his feet, but Mechakara was too fast for him. The robot threw the magic gun aside and stamped down hard on 90s Kid's fingers, grinding his heel into them. 90s Kid cried out with the pain and tried to pull away, but Mechakara had him by the collar and hauled him up.

"IF YOU DIE, THIS WORLD IS _MINE_."

Mechakara's hands met around his throat and began to squeeze. 90s Kid choked, fought for air, couldn't get it. Dark spots began to eat away at the corner of his vision. He was going to die. Right here. Right now. He was going to _die_.

Sound wasn't working properly. It sounded distant, distorted. But there was no mistaking the voice he heard.

"Get the hell offa him!"

Harvey. Harvey at his side, trying to break the android's grip, trying to save his life. Mechakara released one hand and backhanded Harvey across the jaw hard enough to knock him off his feet. But it gave him time. Enough time that not even Mechakara could hold him.

90s Kid slipped through his hands like a ghost and dropped to the floor, coughing, gasping for sweet, precious air. He'd never appreciated breathing so much before in his life.

Mechakara growled with frustration.

"I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO TOUCH YOU –"

"No, please..."

"– BUT I CAN STILL TOUCH _HIM_."

Mechakara dug his fingers into Harvey's throat, dragged him to his feet and pinned him to the wall. 90s Kid threw himself to his feet, tried to pry the metal hand away, but he just passed straight through them. He couldn't do a damn thing.

"DIE. JUST. _DIE_."

Mechakara drew back his arm and drove his fist into Harvey's belly. When he removed his hand, it was crimson with blood. He let go of Harvey's throat.

Harvey crumpled. 90s Kid dropped to his knees next to him, tried to press down on the wound, but he couldn't, his hands just went straight through, and Harvey was bleeding and it was just like back in the alley except he could do _less_ than nothing this time.

"No! _No_! Harvey!"

The world was starting to fade out. His time was up. This was it.

Except... _no_. This wasn't his deal.

"Hey asshole! You promised you'd save him!"

In a second, Tristem was at his side, the only clear thing in a world rapidly fading to grey.

"What did you say?"

"You broke your promise, dude! You said you'd save his life and _look at him_."

Tristem looked down at Harvey. Back up to 90s Kid. He _smiled_.

"I agree."

"You – wait, what?"

"I've failed to uphold my end of the bargain and our deal is null and void. _I agree with you_."

The demon snapped his fingers. A ball of red light appeared in the air. It grew and spread until it was so red and so bright that 90s Kid had to close his eyes.

Everything dissolved into the light.


	31. Take It Back to the Start

_Organic creatures have frail minds, easily subject to manipulation with nothing to fall back upon. Not so a machine. There is always a back-up. Always a ghost._

_Usually, Mechakara would oppose creating a copy of himself. It would be a cheap imitation of his own self rather than his own true being. But there were exceptions to every rule._

_It took less than thirty seconds for him to access the data he had stored within the depths of the ship's on-board computer and patch the holes in his memory left by the demon's meddling. His knowledge of magic was restored and the crystal was still in his grasp._

_Beings of flesh. Beings of magic. They were all worthless fools compared with the beings of steel._

_He had a plan, of course. If this stone could scramble Linkara's thoughts and crush his rationality, he would use it to drive the ugly sack of flesh out of his mind with fury. He would leave it close to him to do its work, destroy Linkara's allies and then slaughter him where he stood._

_It would be glorious._

_One of the Shades beamed him down to the surface. Although their intelligences were nowhere near as complex as Mechakara's own, they seemed to hold him in respect as their kin and did what he bade them do._

_He appeared in an alleyway beside the building that held Linkara's apartment. His internal clock indicated that it was late, later than any of Linkara or his allies would normally be out. Even the singer would have returned from his events._

_Mechakara would have to wait until the morning. And every moment of waiting increased the likelihood that Vyce would discover his deception or Linkara detect him and bring his weapons._

_Organic life forms were infuriatingly unpredictable._

_Then he detected sound. Footsteps and a male human voice humming to himself. And then red glow of a lit cigarette passed by the end of the alleyway._

_The singer. Running later than usual._

_Organic life forms were gloriously unpredictable._

_Mechakara switched his voice to a more human register and called out._

_"Harvey!"_

_A pause._

_"Kid?"_

_Mechakara waited. Footsteps approached. The singer leant around the edge of the wall to look at him._

_"You okay, kid?"_

_The singer approached. Cautious, but closer._

_"Hey kid. Talk to me."_

_An arm's length away. Mechakara's false orbs met his gaze and he let the red light show._

_"_ You _."_

_The singer tried to strike him, but Mechakara caught his fist with ease, grabbed his throat and shoved him against the wall hard enough to hear the sweet dull thud of skull against brick. It was almost laughable._

_"WELCOME TO REALITY, HARVEY FINEVOICE."_

_He slipped his spare hand into his pocket and let the glove slide off. His metal fingers wrapped around the crystal. His hand withdrew, clenched into a fist._

_"AND REALITY IS: I AM AN ANDROID –"_

_He drew back his arm._

_"– AND YOU ARE A_ MAN _."_

_He drove his fist into the soft weak flesh of the singer's belly until the skin split and the flesh parted, the only response a strangled gasp. For a brief moment, Mechakara let himself pretend that this was Linkara himself._

_It didn't last._

_He twisted his hand as far into the meat and gristle of the singer's body, revelling in the whimpers of pain his movements produced, until he was sure that he was as deep as he could go and released the crystal. Linkara would find this man sooner or later. The crystal would come to him and drive him mad._

_Mechakara drew his hand back, metal slick and red with gore, and released the singer's throat. His body collapsed at his feet like the sack of waste that it was._

_Footsteps. Out in the street. Mechakara could not afford to be caught at this point by Linkara or any of his other allies. He signalled the Shade on Vyce's ship and in less than a moment he was back there._

_Now all he had to do was wait._


	32. Hardcore Hero

When 90s Kid opened his eyes again, he had no idea where the hell he was, why the hell he was there, or what had just happened.

Then he realised that he had the BFG in his hands that were now solid and very much there, and those questions seemed to matter a whole lot less.

"Duuuuuude!"

"Having fun?"

He whirled around to find Tristem standing behind him with a smirk on his face, which he aimed the BFG straight at. Tristem laughed.

"That's not for me, simpleton. That's for the android who will be appearing in this alleyway in roughly... two minutes' time. Think of this as a reward for the services rendered to me. You'll work out what to do, I'm sure."

Then he vanished.

90s Kid glanced around him. So this was the alley where he found Harvey. And Mechakara was going to appear at any moment. He could stop this whole thing from happening.

He could be the hero and save the day.

Oh, he could practically hear the Nirvana playing already.

Tristem wasn't lying. A few moments later, there was a hum of teleportation and Mechakara materialised from nowhere, his back to 90s Kid, no idea that anyone was lying in wait for him.

Sweet. Now he could get _hardcore_.

"Hey rust bucket!"

Mechakara whirled around, but 90s Kid was faster and squeezed the trigger. The blast of the BFG hit the robot square in the back and he staggered forwards with a metallic cry of pain. It was the kind of response that made 90s Kid feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"YOU!"

"Cha, who'd you think? Now drop the crystal and get lost before I get Linkara down here to kick your ass again."

"HOW COULD YOU KNOW ABOUT THE –"

90s Kid's finger drifted closer to the trigger again.

"I said drop it and go!"

Mechakara snarled in rage, but he pulled the crystal out of his pocket and dropped it on the ground. 90s Kid tried to fire another shot, but the teleportation haze covered him again and he vanished before it connected. 90s Kid still grinned, though. It was good to be him, sometimes.

The crystal looked pretty innocent. Small, white, round. Nothing like the sort of thing that would make Linkara act so weird.

It took a good few stomps to destroy it, but after it started to crack, it broke pretty quickly and the pieces turned black. He was getting into it when somebody loudly cleared their throat and he looked up to see that Harvey was watching him.

"The hell just happened?"

"... how much did you see?"

"You shot the tin can, he dropped that thing and vamoosed, and then you started stomping on it. Care to explain _why_?"

90s Kid attempted to explain, but he was half way through his deal with Tristem when Harvey raised a hand and said, "Stop, stop. I'm sorry I asked. Summarise."

"I just saved your life because I'm totally hardcore?"

Harvey sighed. "Sounds close enough. Anything I can do to... repay you, for that?"

That stopped 90s Kid in his tracks. He could hardly remember what he'd been doing when all this started, let alone think of anything Harvey could do to help him. But then an idea popped into his head, shimmering like a bubble.

"Do you, like, have a spare room in your apartment? 'Cos couch-surfing is like totally bogus, man."

"You don't have a home?"

"Nah, not really."

"... can you pay rent?"

"A little?"

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Don't wreck anything and look after the place while I'm on tour and you can stay."

"Duuuuuude! That is totally _excellent_!"

"I already regret my decision."


	33. Apollyon Harvey

Harvey stood up. His shirt was crimson and starting to go stiff from the blood, but he was alive, and what's more, his wounds were gone. He grinned, stooped down, picked up Linkara's magic gun, straightened up, and took out a cigarette.

"Think I'll be taking the kid's magic piece with me when I leave. No hard feelings, tin can."

"YOU WILL DIE BEFORE YOU SET SO MUCH AS ONE FOOT OUT OF THIS ROOM!"

"Somehow I doubt that."

Harvey held the gun up to his mouth.

"Care to help me out here, toots?"

He aimed the gun. He cocked it. He fired.

The blast hit Mechakara square in the face and he recoiled with a cry. Harvey didn't wait for him to recover. He was already running for the door, shooting at the Shades behind, at the ones in front, not pausing to watch them fall.

When he reached the parking lot, Linkara and the Ninja-Style Dancer were in the red sports car they'd borrowed with the engine idling. Harvey tore open the door and threw himself inside.

"Give it some speed, kid! We gotta go!"

Linkara stamped on the accelerator, the engine roared and the car leapt forward, faster than the Shades. They were gonna make it.

"Gun?"

Harvey held it up.

"90s Kid?"

"Back to where he came from."

"Good."

"You reckon that was worth it?"

Linkara nodded. "Third time lucky."

He didn't need to explain. Harvey understood.


	34. Goodbye Tristem?

_Well, well, well. The people of these universes were a troublesome bunch. Brave, altruistic, loving, determined. Not his type at all._

_Tristem waved his hands over the shards of the crystal 90s Kid had destroyed and they knitted back together, jumped into his hand and vanished. There would be others who needed its power. Other minds for it to meld with. Other deals to be made._

_Just not here._

_The idiot in the orange hat and his suited companion had wormed their way into an empire and taken it down just to find a loophole in a contract, and they weren't even champions of this world. He'd hate to think what a champion would do. What a champion_ could _do._

_No. It was easier to leave their universes behind. The number of worlds was infinite, and the number of beings living on them, and the number of deals he could make. The universes were full of sweet sadness to sup on._

_And maybe someday, he would come back here._

_Maybe._

_Tristem smiled to himself. Then he stepped through a door that only he could see and vanished._


End file.
